


You Don’t Only Get One Shot

by janonny



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: M/M, Post-Captain America: Civil War (Movie), Spider-Man: Homecoming Spoilers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-21
Updated: 2017-09-25
Packaged: 2019-01-03 18:52:39
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 23,792
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12152709
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/janonny/pseuds/janonny
Summary: In which Tony voluntarily carries a tracker around, and learns how to talk to Steve all over again in-between and during kidnapping attempts.“Leave you alone for two months, and you have an operation all set up to track wayward Hydra cells and rescue innocent billionaires,” Tony said, his tone skating the line of annoyance and admiration.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This story is set post-Civil War and during some parts of Spider-Man: Homecoming. It’s also based on some parts of the Infinity War trailer shown at SDCC.
> 
> This was written for the [Superhusbands Aluminum Anniversary Anthology](https://stevetonystudios.itch.io/sa3-anthology), a digital fanbook in celebration of the 10-year anniversary of The Confession! The mods have done such a great job with it. :D 
> 
> My eternal thanks go to [astrofrogged](http://astrofrogged.tumblr.com/), who really stepped up for the quickest proofreading turnaround ever!

Rhodey was standing in the scanner, propped up by the leg braces that had their joints locked so he could remain upright and comfortable. The big machine whirred, parts swivelling around him. Rhodey lifted a hand to scratch his face.

“Please remain still, Colonel Rhodes,” F.R.I.D.A.Y said.

“Based on your movements today, I think we can make some adjustments to the joints. We should be able to fabricate a better brace by the end of the week,” Tony said, hands pulling apart the holograms in the air, tapping on the joints. “F.R.I.D.A.Y., run some simulations on the different carbon fibres we can use for this and stress test on the usual measures. Access the company database for options.”

“Right on it, boss.”

Seeing the braces taken apart in the hologram reminded Tony about something else. He had been taking his time with the package Steve had sent, carrying it around like a portable paperweight for weeks. But it was time to take the plunge.

“Also, take this apart,” Tony said, as he dropped the flip phone into DUM-E’s claw, and DUM-E beeped in excitement before whirring away with it to another machine in the corner of the workshop. “Hey, no running in the workshop, DUM-E! I’m watching you.”

“What’s that?” Rhodey asked, craning his neck.

“Stay still, Bumblebee. You’re in the middle of a scan,” Tony instructed without looking up.

“Was that the phone? The phone Rogers sent to you? Why are you taking it apart?”

Tony sighed extravagantly. “Because it’s a flip phone from a bygone era and its existence hurts my soul.”

Rhodey stared at him. “If this is a temper tantrum, it’s the calmest tantrum I’ve seen from you in a while.”

“It’s not a temper tantrum, and I’m offended you would say that. Mortally wounded,” Tony said, placing a hand to his chest, before waving it all off. “Anyway, let’s talk about your walk. The way I see it, the braces are good, but potentially a short term measure. It could go far, depending on how much and how fast we can push medical and prosthesis advancement, but I’m still working on that. I’m flying in some experts in the field with novel ideas on this.”

“You’re going to get another PhD, aren’t you?” Rhodey said with some amusement.

Tony shrugged and continued, “In terms of long term measures, I already have Doctor Cho working on the regeneration cradle, but the research needed to modify it for spinal nerve repair is going to take some time.”

“You’ve mentioned this before, which means you’re softening me up for something bigger,” Rhodey said, and Tony could tell he would be crossing his arms if it wasn’t for the scans still running.

“Soften you up? But you’re already soft and squishy, gummybear. I couldn’t soften you up any further even if I tried.”

“Tony…”

“Okay, if you’re going to be like that. I was just, passing thoughts, random neurons firing type of thing, I was just thinking… Extremis.”

“No.”

“Just hear me out.”

“No.”

“I’m not saying right now, because there’s still some tinkering to do, but I have stabilized the formula. We could take it further,” Tony said, moving to stand in front of the body scanner so he could look Rhodey in the eye pleadingly. He even made his eyes real big, aiming for earnest too.

Rhodey looked unimpressed, the soulless monster. He said, “Yeah, you’ve made the formula inert in a body that doesn’t require massive regeneration. You haven’t figured out a way to give it enough juice to heal great physical trauma while cancelling out the fire-breathing part. I know this. We talked about this, and why you were going to can the research after you stabilized the version in Pepper since there was too big a risk when it came to the human experimentation stage, even though it would have been a great leap in medical advancement. It was a sound reason! I don’t want you to go back on that decision now just because it’s personal.”

Okay, so, soulless monster or not, Rhodey had a point.

Tony sighed and walked back to his desk where his hologram was arrayed. He could have moved them to where he was standing, but he didn’t want Rhodey to see this.

“Can I get out of this yet?”

“Nope. Another ten hours in the scanner.”

“It had better not be another ten _minutes_ , Tony.”

Rhodey continued grumbling, but Tony was only checking in every other word at this point, answering on auto-pilot, his mind drawn back to thoughts about Rhodey’s spine and maybe that little flip phone he had handed over to DUM-E. His thoughts churned through, multi-threading, flipping through multiple subjects at the same time.  

Tony’s hands flicked through the ideas he had listed out. Extremis was out, so next in line would be nanobots. Nanobots inserted into the body, primarily the spine, back and legs, which would interface with new braces to ensure complete autonomy and fully restored spinal function. Sound logic, but more research needed. A whole new medical revolution might be required too.

Next in line was a magical cure. _Magic_ , ugh. But in a world where Thor and Loki existed, who was Tony to deny the facts. He knew about the existence of the sorcerers, and his sources said that there was a chance they could teach people how to cure themselves with the use of magic. But that would require Rhodey to learn magic, which not only offended Tony on a base level, but he also couldn’t see Rhodey taking to it. He would encourage Rhodey to do so if that was the only way, but despite being a flyboy and happiest in the sky, Rhodey had no tendencies towards flights of fancies. His flight preferences leaned towards engines and repulsors.

So, park that idea.

If he didn't want to learn how to do magic, there was always the option of obtaining a magical artefact. Tony had had F.R.I.D.A.Y. collate a lot of Nordic mythology involving healing and some other interesting rumors from around the world. There seemed to be an increase in supernatural occurrences of late.

Another option was some version of the super soldier serum, the magic one stop shop to cure all ailments and boost your body’s recovery system to magical unicorn levels. But Tony was so not up for that; there seemed to be something about the serum that meant that when it failed, it changed people into red homicidal maniacs or green rage monsters.

He could see Steve’s frowning face of disapproval, just thinking about it.

And now he was back on Steve.

The thought didn’t engender as much fury and despair as it used to. He had forced himself to confront his emotions from the fallout in Siberia. It wasn’t surprising that they had argued over the Accords, but what happened in Siberia… Tony had never expected a rift that would feel so permanent.

He didn’t feel the same blinding fury anymore. Well, maybe if he saw Steve in person he would feel the urge to punch him again, but right now, it was just a deep sadness.

Ah, look at that, it had been ten minutes since he sank into his woe-is-me thoughts concerning Steve. A new record.

DUM-E came up to him with a cheerful beep, presenting a tray of dismantled parts, making Tony resurface from his thoughts. The silly bot was so pleased with himself even though all he really did was deliver the phone to and fro between Tony and a machine that did the delicate dismantling work.

“So, what do you think, Tony?”

Tony took the tray and started sifting through its contents.

"I think these are mostly regular phone parts, but this cutting edge microprocessor is completely out of place in such an old flip phone, so he obviously got the phone through T’Challa, and — hello there, what’s this little chip…?"

"I’m not talking about Cap’s olive branch phone. I’m talking about the suggestion that you get away for a bit."

Tony started mentally running back through the conversation he'd just had on auto-pilot. Rhodey'd been saying something about how Tony needed to stop obsessing over ways to cure him and how he was making good progress with the braces, yada yada yada. And the last few lines…

_“I think you should go away for a bit. Just to rest up. Get away from the news and all this stress.”_

“Wait, are you trying to get rid of me, your bestest friend? I’m hurt, truly cut to the bone,” Tony said. “Clone this, will you, F.R.I.D.A.Y.? Check for any surprises, and if it’s clean, transfer everything to a spare phone," he said, placing the SIM and the two chips he found on the small data reader beside his custom keyboard.

“Yes, I can see how hurt you are by it,” Rhodey said wryly. “You weren’t even paying attention. You were looking at more research, weren’t you? You had your plotting face on.”

“I don’t have a plotting face.”

“Please tell me you aren’t thinking about a magical cure. I’ve heard about that Doctor Strange from Vision, and I’m not learning magic. No way.”

Damn, why did his friends communicate with each other? It did make his plotting more difficult.

Well, there were still the nanobots, magical artefacts and the other items on his list. And if all that didn’t work, further down the list was liaising with T’Challa. Wakanda was rumoured to have far advanced medical technology. It didn’t have anything to do with seeing familiar faces, of course. Tony pushed that traitorous thought out of his mind.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Tony lied loftily.

“Sure, you don’t,” Rhodey said, completely unconvinced. “I’m serious, Tony. I think you need to take a break. You haven’t slowed down since you came back from Siberia. You say you've dealt with what happened by running through multiple scenarios in B.A.R.F.—”

“I have!” interjected Tony.

“But that’s still not the same as taking a timeout to recover. Physically _and_ mentally.”

Tony pulled out more files on his hologram. “There’s still too much to do here. We’re working out the terms for the Accords, bringing more countries onboard while putting more authority and responsibility into the hands of the superheroes. I have research to do, and I need to check on Spider-lad’s progress.”

Rhodey said, “Tones, don’t sell me the spiel on the Accords. We’ve been working together on the Accords, I know what’s involved. And you know what, I think I can do it on my own.”

“'Can' doesn’t mean 'should'.”

“That’s like the anti-Tony Stark motto,” Rhodey said in mild horror. “Now I know you definitely need to rest up, because you’re losing your marbles.”

That really was an odd thing for Tony to say, but he wasn’t going to own up to it. He shook his head. “There’s just too much to do.”

Rhodey cut him off, “I’m serious, Tony. At the moment, the Accords could benefit from your absence. You don’t always play well with others, and you know that. I can step up on this. Let me wrangle the big players for now, I know how to talk their talk better than you do.”

Tony started, “You’re still recovering—”

Rhodey rolled his eyes. “I can do more than one thing at the same time, Tony. I’m _bored_. I want to do this.”

And the thing was that Rhodey really was good at this kind of things. He came across as dependable and responsible, the kind of upstanding guy that government officials would listen to and he had so much experience corralling Tony that trying to corral anyone else should be a piece of cake for him. Tony just hadn’t wanted to tax Rhodey more than necessary…

Except looking into Rhodey’s dark eyes and pinched mouth, Tony could tell that Rhodey really did want this; both for Tony to go take a holiday somewhere and to be the one to wrangle the Accords. Wrangling was practically Rhodey’s superpower, anyway.

And Tony hated doing it, and there were other things he could be doing instead.

“Alright, maybe I’ll take a break in India,” Tony said.

He watched as surprise and then suspicion flashed across Rhodey’s face. “India? Really? What’s in India?”

A rumor that a woman had just recently restored her son’s ability to get up and walk, and eat something more than liquids. That sounded like a promising lead to magical artefacts. Tony would take a fresh trail with an unbelievable story over an old and cold reasonable rumor.

But to Rhodey, he only said, “I haven’t had a holiday there before. And there’s a good mental health retreat over there that I heard from someone somewhere. Maybe I’ll give it a shot.”

“I want to know the name of the place.”

“So suspicious. I’ll have Pepper send it to you, koala bear.”

“And when can I get out of this scanner?”

Scanner? Oh, oops.

“Um, let me check. Oh yeah, you can get out now. It’s just done.”

Rhodey reached down and unlock his braces, stepping out slowly and reaching for his crutches. “Damn, that took longer than— Wait. That was your lying voice. You asshole, did you forget to tell me I could get out?”

“It’s F.R.I.D.A.Y., it’s all on F.R.I.D.A.Y., she was meant to keep track!” Tony said hurriedly.

“You didn’t ask me to, boss,” F.R.I.D.A.Y. said cheerfully.

“For that, I’m going to get Pepper to change your email signature to Tony Stank.”

“God, you’re vengeful,” Tony said with sad frown, and then winced when Rhodey accidentally-on-purpose knocked him in the shin with his crutch when he walked by.

“I could be a hell lot worse,” Rhodey said in warning. “So make sure you take a break.”

Tony raised his hands warily. “When you put it so nicely, how could I say no?”

* * * * * *

In all fairness, Tony did give the mental health retreat spa thingy a shot. Not immediately, but he did get to it. Eventually.

First, he had spent the flight over to India using as much leverage as his money and influence could get him to trace the rumor of the woman with the healing powers. Turned out, money and influence could only get you so far when the woman in question, Sheetal Narayan, was fairly wealthy herself and had no time for some American businessman flying around in a tin can wanting to interview her when she was in the middle of planning a wedding for her miraculously healed son.

But money and influence did score him a begrudging invite to attend the wedding that was happening only two days after he landed. By a rare turn of good fortune, Mrs. Narayan's future daughter-in-law was a big Iron Man fan, even if she was not. Tony was told in no uncertain terms that if he came to the wedding, he would get to talk to the matriarch for exactly fifteen minutes, and he had to leave within the hour because she had heard all about superheroes and their propensity to attract trouble. She was not having her son’s wedding crashed by supervillains.

Smart woman.

The day Tony landed in India, he chose to spend the night in his hotel rather than roaming Chennai, lying in bed and examining the new contents of his phone. There was no way Tony was going to carry around a flip phone, regardless of who sent it to him, but he'd had the pertinent information transferred over to a spare phone.

The flip phone had contained one contact number, which likely could only be reached from the SIM Tony had transferred to his phone, and a few photos. Steve had to have known that he would find the photos, so this had to be a message of sorts.

The first was a photo of a sunrise; good composition, taken with an artist’s eye. That had to be the Wakandan mountain range in the background. Tony stared at the photo, trying to discern its meaning. Was Steve trying to tell him where he was? It’s not like Tony didn’t already know, but maybe Steve didn’t know that. Maybe Steve was trying to give him a sign of trust.

The second and third photos were presumably of Steve’s bedroom. These photos weren’t taken with careful framing, both slightly skewed. One was of an unmade bed, the other was of an empty desk. The place looked stark and bare. Now what could these mean? Tony’s felt like he was intruding just by looking at the photos, even though they really were innocuous.

The thing was that Tony’s feelings about Steve were… complicated. He couldn’t tell if the photos seemed strange because they actually were strange, or because of Tony’s own biased perceptions.

He tried to picture Steve with the phone, taking the pictures. It was surprisingly hard. He couldn’t figure out what mind-frame Steve must be in. The letter had seemed… hopeful. Maybe. Towards the end of it.

Or maybe Tony was just fooling himself.

He had promised himself he would stop doing this, stop kicking himself over his feelings when it came to one Steve Rogers, stop obsessing over deeper meanings behind Steve’s actions. It was part of his attempt to live better, healthily. It was a work in progress.

The fourth photo was of a panting, happy puppy. It was brown, with one floppy ear and bright brown eyes. Very adorable. Tony had no idea what it meant either.

He leaned his head back against his chair and sighed. Even when Steve wasn’t around, he managed to fuck with Tony’s head.

* * * * * *

The wedding lead was a bust.

Oh, the event itself was gorgeous. Great food too. Tony had decided to dress appropriately in a pure white _kurta_ , a traditional long tunic, and accessorized with a red _dupatta,_ a long scarf that felt very soft where it hung down against his neck. But five minutes with Mrs. Narayan and Tony knew his quest was pointless.

Tony suspected that some kind of latent mutant ability had to be involved in her son's miraculous recovery. But unfortunately, it didn't seem to work on any one but family members, so not really relevant to Rhodey’s injuries. Maybe if she adopted Rhodey and spent enough time with him to realize how awesome he was… but that probably wasn't the most practical solution.

As Tony was heading out of the wedding, his phone beeped and he activated the communicator in his ear.

“Boss, the little Spider is in trouble,” F.R.I.D.A.Y. said in his ear. “Sensors indicate elevated breathing and heart rate beyond usual levels. He’s 1500 feet above ground level and rising.”

Oh damn…

“Deploy a suit, and hurry,” Tony said.

“On it, boss.”

Tony cut into the controls of the suit as soon as it was airborne. His glasses showed him the view from the suit, and it was only through experience and training that he managed not to get airsick from the swooping vision he was receiving even as his physical body remained still.

“Parachute has been deployed, but Spider-Man is dropping swiftly.”

Tony gritted his teeth. From the HUD, he could see that Peter was somewhere above the Hudson River, so at least that meant he was likely to survive the fall. But Peter kept dropping, not slowing down at all, even though the parachute was deployed and still connected to the suit. Tony could guess what went wrong. He pushed the suit to its limits and dived into the water no less than two minutes after Peter had gone in, entangled in his own parachute.

Fishing Peter out of the river and his parachute took less than ten minutes, but Tony spent the entire time worrying until it was clear that Peter wasn’t hurt. Peter had clearly been overreaching, and the talk with him about that had made Tony feel old.

The kid was so young and eager. Tony tried to get him to focus on the neighborhood, to leave the big guns to others instead, but he wasn’t sure if his words fell on deaf ears. The problem was that he didn’t know what other words to employ to get Peter to do as he said. Nothing had ever worked on Tony himself at that age.

Oh god, who put Tony in charge of a teenager again?

Oh, right. Tony had put himself in charge of a teenager. Damnit.

* * * * * *

After that, Tony decided there was no harm checking into that retreat after all. Pepper would definitely tattle on him if the booking at the posh retreat was cancelled and he didn’t need Rhodey in a sulk. And he really needed the break.

He had walked into what looked like a resort, complete with warm lighting, soothing classical music and lovely ladies who talked him through the various packages he could sign up for. The massage and Jacuzzi sounded good, but his hands twitched at the idea of sitting for 90 minutes in guided meditation.

Then there was a certified therapist to talk about a more comprehensive program he could sign up for. The idea made him feel very uncomfortable and out of place, seeing as the people he usually talked to about his problems were Bruce, Rhodey, Pepper, but more often J.A.R.V.I.S., F.R.I.D.A.Y., and DUM-E. Unloading on a complete stranger so they could design a retreat specifically for him that would last a couple weeks sounded like the stuff of nightmares.

But on the other hand, his current coping mechanism and way of talking about his problems had resulted in being manipulated by a vengeful psychopath and climaxed in a violent combat with two super soldiers.

Not exactly a ringing endorsement for success.

With an outward smile, but great inner reluctance, Tony signed himself up, and followed his new therapist into what was called the Room of Reflection.

Which was when he was promptly kidnapped.

* * * * * *

Despite the situation, Tony had to give credit where credit was due. The kidnappers were efficient. They hit hard and they hit fast. He had barely entered the room when he was grabbed from behind the door, and a chloroform soaked cloth was pressed to his face. He tried to hold his breath, but his heart was pounding with fear as he was dragged out of the room, his arms pinned to his side. He tried to struggle, but he knew he was in trouble, knew he had stopped holding his breath in his panic. The room was starting to fade…

He came to with a gasp. He was alone, in a room that was bare except for the bed he was lying in. Tony groaned and rubbed his head. Really? Again?

He had no idea how long he'd been blearily staring up at the ceiling when the door opened and a looming figure entered the room.

The man was tall, dark haired, with a scar bisecting his face. “We want you to examine a transdimensional portal that was built with alien technology. It needs to be fixed,” he said.

“You know, that’s actually a new one,” Tony said, with no small measure of surprise.

The transdimensional portal was new, but the way events unfolded next really was not. Which was unfortunate. Why didn’t kidnappers ever try to cajole you into working for them? Or at least attempt bribery? He could work with bribery. But that wasn’t in the cards, alas.

They insisted, he said no. They pushed him around a bit and promised to take it up a notch next time. Then they left him to stew in his situation to see the light of day. Business as usual.

Tony was just considering agreeing to it, so he could get access to materials he could shape into things that go Boom, when the door opened again. It opened slowly, and someone looked carefully through the gap.

It wasn’t one of his captors. Tony had noticed his captors hadn’t been afraid to walk around without hiding their faces, which he knew was a bad sign. This new entrant was in an all-black tactical suit, and the upper half of his face and hair was obscured by a mask.

But Tony would know that jawline anyway.

“Let’s go.” And that voice too.

Tony sat up slowly. “What the fuck are you doing here, Steve?”

He had the satisfaction of seeing familiar blue eyes widen behind the mask, and then they were back to normal.

“I was just in the neighbourhood so I decided to do a pit stop. Want to get out of here or were you getting comfortable?”

Tony got off the bed, straightening his clothes needlessly. “Lead on, big boy.”

Steve seemed to twitch at the nickname. Then he was padding out of the room, with Tony trailing after as always.

It looked like the rescue was carefully timed, because they only met one guard on the way, who Steve knocked out efficiently. They didn’t leave through the front door of course. They entered what looked to be a bedroom, complete with dusty furniture, and more importantly, a big window. It was already ajar, Steve’s clear point of entry. There was no sign of how Steve climbed up three storeys to the window, maybe he just scaled the wall bare-handed with his superserum fingertips. Now Steve was securing the end of one long rope to the leg of the metal bedframe. Clearly, that was Tony’s way out.

In less than twenty minutes, they were speeding away in a non-descript black car that got them far from the old building that had been Tony’s temporary residence and Steve had pulled off his mask so as to look like just another regular driver. He drove to the Hyatt Regency, where he'd apparently pre-booked a room. It was a pretty good choice. Not so posh that they would stand out, but requiring enough money that the staff would be discreet. It was also much riskier trying to storm a hotel as populated as this one.

Tony kept silent until they were in the hotel room. Steve was stalking the walls, checking all potential entry points even though they were 18 storeys in the air.

“How did you find me? I can’t have been gone for more than a few hours, no one should have been able to track me so quickly,” Tony said.

“We got some intel about Hydra intercepting an important package. Then we realized you were headed towards the region where Hydra was congregating their grunts,” Steve said, still prowling the room. “We weren’t sure, but it was too much of a coincidence. I thought I would keep on your trail anyway, just in case.”

Great, now Tony was _a package_. Thanks, Hydra. And it was Hydra playing with transdimensional portals? Good thing they couldn’t get it working then.

“But how could you tell I was heading to India, let alone Chennai?”

Steve looked at him sideways from the corner of his eyes. “Are you really going to make me say it?”

“No idea what you’re alluding to here.”

“You didn’t bring the phone with you, right? The one I sent?”

Tony made a face. “No, I didn’t.”

“But the tracking device is still active.”

Tony pointed at him, triumphant. “So you admit you put a tracker in the flip phone!”

Steve shrugged. “We knew you would find it and what you did with it then was up to you. So you took the tracker with you. Didn’t you want to be tracked?”

Tony opened his mouth. And then shut it again.

Alright, Steve had a point.

Steve turned, running a hand through his hair and shaking it out from where it had been flattened by his mask. The sight of Steve’s disheveled blonde hair glinting in the lamplight and his tired face as he looked at Tony straight on… it hit Tony like a punch in the gut. He had no idea why he was suddenly so affected.

Even after Tony left the team, officially resigned from the Avengers after the Ultron debacle, he had kept in contact with everyone. This was the longest he had gone without seeing everyone since they started getting together and running missions on Hydra’s bases, looking for Loki’s sceptre. It had been two months since he had looked at Steve in person, but more than that, worse than that Tony was realizing now, was the uncertainty.

He'd had no idea when he was going to see Steve again and having him here in person all of a sudden, shoulders squared and looking at Tony with blue eyes dark with unreadable emotion, he looked strangely solid, somehow more real than the cold impersonal hotel room. It took Tony’s breath away. 

The corner of Steve’s lips twitched in a barely perceptible smile as he asked, “You transferred everything to your own phone. If you didn’t want to be tracked, then why did you transfer the tracker too?”

Tony shrugged. “I wanted to see what you would do.”

“Now you know.”

It felt like too much all of a sudden. Just too much emotion going on. Tony turned and let himself collapse onto the king size bed in the middle of the hotel room, forcing his body to relax in a sprawl.

“Leave you alone for two months, and you have an operation all set up to track wayward Hydra cells and rescue innocent billionaires,” Tony said, his tone skating the line of annoyance and admiration.

“And you’ve made tech for Rhodes so that he’s on the way to walking again, and rumor has it you’re mentoring that kid from Queens, in between brokering international agreements on the Accords and roadblocking Ross at every turn.”

Tony turned his head sharply to look at Steve, surprised at that comment. He said carefully, “I didn’t think you would consider the Accords to be actual work.”

“Do you really think that, Tony?” Steve asked, walking over to the bed and staring down at him. “I don’t agree with you on the Accords, but I know you’re doing this because you think it’s the right thing to do. And finagling an agreement between 117 countries? How is that not hard work?”

Tony looked away. “120 countries now. It was mostly T’Chaka who put the foundation in place anyway. And Rhodey’s taking over the negotiations. I’m on a little break, which is why… India.”

Tony kept Steve in view even if he didn’t look at him directly. There was something strange about this position, to be reclining in bed while Steve stood just a couple feet away, looking at him. It wasn’t remotely like anything from Tony’s idle fantasies — he told himself that no one could blame him because probably everyone had fantasies about Steve at some point or other — because the room had never looked so cold and unfamiliar. More importantly, Steve had always been in the bed as well, not just standing beside it, wearing unfamiliar dark combat gear and an even less familiar expression. The look was intense, like the skin on the side of his face was heating up under that attention.

“I’m glad you’re getting a break, even if it’s a short one,” Steve said, a little quiet.

“Yeah, Rhodey gave me a bit of a push to take one,” Tony said in a matching tone. “I hope you had one too, in between the jailbreak and rescuing billionaires.”

“It’s been okay. There have been restful moments.”

They lapsed into silence. Then Steve sat down on the bed, turning so he could still look at Tony.

“I’m surprised you aren’t… angrier,” he said. “Or that you aren’t talking about Siberia.”

“Eh, what’s there to talk about? I think all the punching got the point across,” Tony said, deliberately airy, forcing himself not to tense up.

“I’m not sure I got any point across. I’m— I’m worried you got a different point altogether,” Steve said in a low voice.

Tony’s eyes flickered to Steve’s face. He looked drawn, tired. There probably hadn’t been many restful moments after all.

Finally, Tony decided to go for some blunt honesty. “We’re both really fucking terrible at communication, but I’m not angry— no, that’s a lie. I’m not _that_ angry anymore. And I think I do get the point. Not whatever nasty thing you might think I’m stewing on, the actual point about… about not killing. Him.”

Steve was staring at him in surprised, lips parted. God, Tony didn’t know if he wanted to hit him or kiss him. Both, probably. Steve obviously hadn’t expected a response like that, and the thought gave Tony the strength to push on.

Tony said, “All cards on the table, there is something I want to know.”

Steve took a deep breath. “What is it?”

“Was part of the reason that you didn’t tell me because…” he trailed off, trying to figure out the best way to phrase it without sounding _pathetic_. “Because you were afraid of what I would do? I mean, I did do it in the end. I went ballistic. But was that why? You wanted to keep Bucky safe and you were worried I would hunt him to the ends of the earth if I found out?”

Tony actually looked at Steve this time, because he did want the truth and he knew, he just knew that Steve couldn’t lie to him. Not like this, not face to face. Just like in Siberia. Steve might have wanted to hide from the truth, hide the truth from himself and Tony, but when Tony outright asked him and met his gaze, he knew Steve could only be honest then.

It was the same now.

And even before Steve spoke, Tony already felt a rush of relief.

Because for the first time since Steve had rescued him, Steve’s face was completely devoid of any masks. His eyes were bright with emotion. It was shitty of Tony to feel relief at that, but he did, because Steve’s entire expression said that Tony was wrong. Tony had never been happier to be wrong.

“No, Tony, _no_. That wasn’t the reason at all. I knew you would be hurt by it, and I didn’t want to dig up old wounds when I wasn’t completely sure about how— about how Howard and Maria died.” Steve paused here, his voice strained, like saying the words, saying _their names_ , physically took something out of him. “It was never because I was worried that you would go hunt Bucky down, because I knew you wouldn’t, not when you could think straight again,” Steve said, voice stronger now, like he needed to convey the truth of it through his tone.

Even though Tony could see the truth in Steve’s conviction, he couldn’t help saying, “Then I went ahead and lost it anyway and tried to kill you both. So maybe you should have been worried about that.”

Steve was already shaking his head even before Tony was done talking. “I don’t see you hunting him now. I’m sure you knew where we went and you made no attempts at us and didn't let Ross know where we were. What happened in Siberia was a result of Zemo’s manipulation. It wasn’t just you. _I_ let myself be manipulated by him as well. He pushed all the right buttons and he piled on crisis after crisis on top of us, then hit us where we hurt most.”

Steve took a deep breath, and then continued, “That wasn’t you, Tony. I knew when you calmed down again, you wouldn’t… that you wouldn’t. Not really. You might still be angry, but you’re not a killer, Tony.”

Tony looked away, staring up at the ceiling, not wanting to look into Steve’s eyes anymore. The thing was… the thing was that Tony had done a lot of terrible things during the course of his life. He designed weapons of mass destruction without really thinking about the actual cost and consequences paid in blood. He killed Obie, the man he saw as a father figure, even more so than his own father some days. He had to live with being part of Ultron’s creation and with the subsequent destruction caused by Ultron. He had made bloody mistakes and he had made terrible decisions.

But Siberia was the first time he really, actually felt the urge to kill. The first time he really wanted to wrap his hands around someone’s neck and squeeze and squeeze until all the rage and pain were pushed out through his fingertips, so that they would know how it really felt to have their own neck squeezed, squeezed and broken…

Tony closed his eyes. He hadn’t succeeded in killing anyone that day, but he had felt like a murderer anyway, afterwards, alone in cold and painful Siberia.

“You were pushed to breaking point, Tony. Zemo pushed us all to breaking point,” Steve said, his voice barely above a whisper.

Tony opened his eyes and his lashes felt a little damp, but there were no tears to his relief, none that should be visible anyway. He kept his eyes trained on the ceiling when he finally spoke.

“You know what I was saying about getting your point? Even with our shitty communication?” Tony asked, surprised at how calm he sounded, but he didn’t wait for Steve’s answer. “Let’s be honest, I’m still a little pissed you didn’t tell me. That I had to see it and hear about it from fucking Zemo of all people. That you left such a great big weakness in our team for someone to exploit. But then again, I freaked out like a crazy person and lost it once I did find out what happened to my parents, so maybe I don’t have a leg to stand on.

“And I let Ross, of all fucking people, set up this whole corridor guilt trip —you probably don’t know this one but there was a lady waiting for me to tell me how it was all my fault her son was dead— and so instead of stonewalling him to give us more time, I pushed ahead with the Accords. Don’t get me wrong, I still believe it’s the right thing, and yes, okay, I know you don’t and this isn’t about the Accords. But what I mean is I didn’t slow Ross down so we had time to regroup, to work things out as a team. So instead, we fought each other.”

“That’s on all of us, Tony.”

“Yes, maybe, probably. But my point is…” Tony huffed, shaking his head. “I got off topic. My point is that I did work it all out. Even with the shitty communication. It wasn’t just through use of my big brain of course, or not directly anyway. I used this device called the Binarily Augmented Retro Framing, it’s for—”

“I know what B.A.R.F. is used for. Someone uploaded your demonstration onto Youtube,” Steve said, sounding hesitant like he wasn’t sure how Tony would react.

Tony paused, and then continued, “You looked me up on Youtube? Wait, never mind, off track again. Anyway, yes, I used B.A.R.F. about a hundred times over. I’m not even exaggerating the number. There were so many different ways things could have played out with the Accords. But I used B.A.R.F. the most extensively for the events in Siberia. I thought— I wanted to know. Maybe I would feel differently if it ended differently. Maybe I was still angry because I didn’t get my— the whole thing, retribution. _Something_.”

He stopped, waiting to see if Steve would say anything, but he just remained silent, his face carved in stone, but only if stone could experience agony.

“I must have killed Bucky a dozen times,” Tony confessed in a hollow voice. “But it just felt worse. It felt worse and worse each time.”

After a short, painful pause, Steve asked, his expression fatalistic like he just couldn’t help himself, “How many times did you kill me?”

“Once.”

“Tony, I—” Steve stopped, and tried again, “I understand—”

“I couldn’t handle more than once,” Tony said, before sitting up, suddenly not able to continue this conversation on his back.

Now they both sat, almost side-by-side, with Steve on the right side of the bed while Tony sat in the middle of it. They were both turned to keep the other in their line of sight, but they didn’t face each other directly, like they couldn’t bear to do that right now even while they sat a foot apart.

The prospect of talking about killing Steve _to Steve_ was enough to make his hands cold and clammy, so he continued quickly, “You know the scenario I ran the most times? The one that really felt like it made a difference for the better? When I walked away. When I just walked away and went to have a good cry in my Iron Man suit. I think that makes me a wimp of some sort.”

“You know it doesn’t,” Steve said, resting a tentative hand on Tony’s shoulder.

The contact almost made him flinch, because it was so unexpected after everything they went through. Then Tony slumped under that hand, allowing himself to relish that bit of contact. He had been afraid that they would never reach this point again.

“Stop being mature at me,” Tony grumbled. “Anyway, I was telling the truth when I said I’m not _that_ angry anymore. I’m still a little bit, an eensy bit angry that you didn’t tell me. But we both fucked up anyway, it wasn’t the sound of one hand clapping or whatever. This might sound unusually mature of me, trust me, even Rhodey commented on it, but I’ve done a ridiculous number of B.A.R.F. simulations, so I’ve had time to work through some of my issues.”

There was a short moment of silence before Steve asked tentatively, “Is processing through B.A.R.F. a good idea?”

Tony shot him a look. “Do you prefer me to be angry at you?”

Steve shook his head a little and sighed. “I don’t know. Maybe a little. Maybe I would feel better if you yelled at me. That shouldn’t matter though.”

“It does matter,” Tony said, before asking shrewdly, “What about you? Are _you_ mad at me?”

Steve gave him a slanted smile that didn’t look too happy, and then he echoed Tony’s earlier comment, “An eensy bit.”

“Tell me.”

Running a hand through his hair, Steve said, “I wish you could see it my way. Why I had reservations, why I just don’t think it’s right for people to treat Wanda like that, to make her _afraid_ of herself. I know why you came after us at the airport, Nat explained, but for all of Ross’ bluster and threats, none of his troops would have ever been able to come close to catching up to us if you guys were with us instead of against us.”

“Together, huh?” Tony said softly.

“Yeah, together. Like we weren’t. I wish we were a team again,” Steve said, sounding more than a little tired. “But that’s just as much on me as it was on you. I’m a little angry at you, not for believing in the Accords, but because in Siberia— because you completely lost it. You knew Zemo was manipulating us, but you didn’t _care._ Even though it’s unfair, that’s how I feel and I’m angry that I can’t stop feeling that way. But I think I’m angriest at myself, for putting both you _and_ Bucky in that position.”

Steve wiped a hand over his face, his shoulders a slope of defeat. “As you said, I left us all vulnerable to an outside hit.”

They both sat there, processing what was said.

Tony said, a little tentative, “Sounds like you might need some simulations with B.A.R.F. too.”

Steve smiled wryly, “Maybe once it has a better name.”

They lapsed into a drained silence. The tension from earlier was gone now, dissipating as the conversation tapered off, but it still left Tony uncertain. Logically, Tony knew this was big progress after everything they'd been through. Being able to talk about it was probably nearly miraculous, but it was clear that neither of them really knew where to go from there. After months of silence, after tentatively reaching out on both sides and now even talking about their _feelings_ , where did they go from here?

Staring at Steve surreptitiously, Tony took in the lines between his brows, the way he held his body, tight and drawn up. He took in how Steve had his lips pressed together, how his hands remained curled on his knees. Steve just looked… sad. And a little lost.

Was this all they had left? Were they going to head in this direction forever, not furious anymore or hurt by each other, but an endless journey knowing they had lost something between them?

Suddenly, Tony couldn’t stand that thought.

Fuck that noise.

Tony decided that they were going to move on to something better. Things were pretty shit, but he didn’t want whatever he had with Steve to be forever fucked up because of Zemo, to lose everything just because they both had fucking communication issues. 

Tony forced himself to relax, to talk like how he used to always talk to Steve, poking and pushing just to see how Steve would respond. “Geez, you’re so shallow. You’re turning down the use of a therapy tool that took hundreds of millions of dollars and months of hard work from a dozen professionals to make, just because of its name?”

Steve looked up, looked him in the eye like he was searching for something. Tony held his breath as he watched Steve consider, watched Steve watch him back. Maybe the desperate hope was clear in Tony’s face, because Steve’s expression seemed to soften, to shed some of the grim tightness from before. Whatever it was, he seemed to come to the same decision as well.

He lifted one hand in mock surrender. “Alright, if I happen to be in the area again, I won’t say no to your six hundred million dollar therapy tool, made from the sweat of a dozen professionals.”

Tony grinned at how Steve must have remembered the price tag from the M.I.T. demonstration. The cost must have blown Steve’s mind for it to stick like that.

“Sweat, blood and tears of a dozen professionals, thank you very much. And you can try it out if you happen to be in the area and _not_ arrested,” Tony said flippantly.

“I’m sure I could find a way not to be caught,” Steve said with a casual shrug.

Tony said, “Yeah, yeah, you’re so inconspicuous. You know that mask doesn’t hide anything? It just covers your hair and the area around your eyes and your nose bridge. It’s not like anyone with some form of vision wouldn’t recognize that jawline anywhere. Hell, I recognized you in the dark even before you said anything.”

Steve shrugged, his smile growing for some reason. “Maybe it’s just you. I didn’t have any trouble elsewhere.”

“Just me? You obviously aren’t familiar with the superhero fans. Captain America has a big following. They would be examining photos of you from every angle and have you matched up within the hour,” Tony said with a wave of his hand, as if to illustrate how quickly Steve’s secret would be exposed.

The banter seemed to be helping Steve loosen up. He leaned back on the bed with his hands flat against the mattress. Tony turned completely and pulled his legs in to sit cross legged on the bed, examining Steve’s profile.

Steve’s eyes were closed, like he was resting, even as he spoke, “I’ll just have to be sure not to get photographed. I can blend into the crowd when I want to.”

“Sure, baseball cap and you’re practically unrecognizable,” Tony said, plucking at the coverlet.

“Were you trying to blend in here?” Steve asked in return, opening his eyes to look at Tony while gesturing with one hand at Tony’s upper torso. “I like it. Looks good on you.”

The compliment was unexpected and Tony blinked. “When in Rome and all that. Why? You don’t think I blend in?”

Steve watched him through his lashes, his eyes hooded in an unusual way. “You stand out. You always do.”

The way Steve said it… There seemed to be another meaning there, but Tony had no idea what it could be.

“Well, I wasn’t trying to be stealthy anyway. I just liked how the _kurta_ looks and I thought it would look better at the wedding I went to. I had a _dupatta_ too, a scarf basically. It was a nice red one, but the Hydra goons took it away when they took away my phone and everything they could remove without stripping me. That really completed the look. Now you’re just seeing an unfinished product. What did they think I was going to do with a scarf of all things?” Tony forcibly stopped himself when he realized he was babbling. What the hell? Tony hoped he wasn’t blushing as well.

Fortunately, Steve just carried on. “They were probably afraid you were going to weaponize it.”

“Ha ha, you’re hilarious, Rogers,” Tony said, rolling his eyes.

“We’ve all heard the story, box of scraps in a cave and you blew them all up. They weren’t going to take any chances. You could have probably weaponized the fibers in the scarf,” Steve said with complete seriousness, although his eyes glinted with humor.

“How did I forget that you can be such a dick,” Tony said wonderingly.

Before Steve could respond, something chirped once, twice. Steve pulled out a thin, sleek phone from a hidden pocket on his form-fitting, probably Kevlar-reinforced jacket and swiped his thumb across the screen.

“The Hydra unit has been apprehended by the others. You should be safe here for now, but it would be safer if you headed back to the States anyway, where you have more back-up,” Steve said after reading whatever message he had received on the phone.

“Thank Sam and the others for me,” Tony said, a little wry.

Steve smiled with no hint of sarcasm. “I’ll let them know.”

Tony pointed at the phone. “I noticed that you aren’t using an ancient flip phone, even though you felt compelled to send me one.”

“Oh, is there a difference? I couldn’t tell,” Steve said with a small grin.

“You could have sent me one of those communication beads they use in Wakanda. I’ve heard of those. You sent me a _flip phone_ instead.”

“Yeah, those communication beads they use in Wakanda were real swell. They were small and you could just wear them,” Steve said a little wistfully. “But they’re for Wakandans only. I didn’t get one either.”

“Still… you didn’t have to send me a flip phone. That’s just cruel.”

“I have no idea what you mean. They’re both phones, aren’t they?” Steve said with feigned guilelessness.

“Sure, sure.”

Tony realized he was just delaying at this point, trying to push back the inevitable parting. He wanted to ask when he would see Steve again, but they had both picked separate roads to follow and now their paths diverged again. They didn’t have the luxury of meeting up regularly, no matter how much Tony wanted to ask.

Forcing himself to take the first step, Tony clambered off the bed and stood up. “I guess I should get going. I can call for a car service.”

It looked like Steve wanted to protest, but he shook his head. “Yeah, that’s probably for the best. We have to leave soon to chase down another lead on what Hydra wanted you for and how they got information on your destination.”

“I’ll do some digging myself,” Tony said, straightening his _kurta_.

“Before you go, I have this for you,” Steve said, standing up as well and holding out his hand. “I guessed they would take your phone, especially when the tracker started going somewhere different even though we already guessed your whereabouts. So here’s a replacement. It has all the details and, ah, extras, the same as the last one. You can transfer it all to your new phone if you like, once you get a replacement.”

Steve had to know that Tony would have cloned all the data and had it in back-up even with his phone gone. So it must be about that tracker. Nonetheless, it wasn’t like Tony really minded being tracked by Steve.

His hands closed around what Steve was holding, and he knew. He just knew…

Tony stared down at the flip phone. Then he looked up and caught the tail-end of a grin. “You really are a dick.”

Steve just stuck his hands in his pockets, with an ‘aw, shucks’ smile on his face. Tony shook his head, unable to repress the smile on his own face.

* * * * * *

Once Tony was on the flight back to the U.S., he took some time examining this new flip phone. It was exactly the same ancient make and model, produced by a company that wasn’t even in business anymore. If Tony cracked it open, he suspected he would see an upgraded interior, with a too-modern microprocessor and a tracker.

He browsed the contents. One SIM card, one phone number stored on it. And more photos. Tony scrolled through them. There were four of them again, but they weren’t the same as the last ones.

One was of a watercolor painting depicting the sunrise against the New York skyline, complete with the Stark Tower in the background. It was gorgeous, a spread of colours that looked at once vivid and ethereal. He didn’t even know watercolor paintings could look like that, not that he was any art connoisseur. Tony suspected it was Steve’s own painting, which made him examine the photo with more than a little awe. It warmed Tony to know that Steve was willing to share such a beautiful depiction of New York with him. 

Then there was a photo of a hotel room. Nothing exciting, it was just a cheap-looking hotel room, with a faded floral patterned bed in the middle, framed by washed out drapes and a dinky little TV on a worn desk. There wasn’t even a chair in front of the desk.

The third photo was a close-up of a pair of boots. They were dark and heavy, cleaned and obviously cared for. Tony suspected they were Steve’s.

Lastly, there was a photo of a sleeping black cat, basking in the sunlight. It looked peaceful and kind of cute, but the meaning was equally lost to Tony.

He would set F.R.I.D.A.Y. to trying to see if there was a message encoded in the photos, some kind of digital code in the pixels maybe? But he doubted he would find anything.

* * * * * *


	2. Chapter 2

After that, Tony and Steve exchanged messages about twice a week. They weren’t really serious conversations. It was mostly casual talk about their day, random commentary when some interesting thought crossed their minds.

Tony found himself opening up to Steve about his worries concerning Peter. He didn’t go into details, but he did talk about feeling responsible even though the kid had been out on the streets fighting crime long before Tony came into the picture.

Tony: _He leaves Happy so many voicemails it drives Happy crazy. He’s not like us. He stops bicycle thieves, it’s unbelievable. And kind of funny._

Steve: _Does he know you listen to his voicemails too?_

Tony: _I don’t listen to all of them._

Tony: _Even if I did, it’s just because it’s a soothing background noise for when I’m checking F.R.I.D.A.Y.’s debugging results._

Steve: _I didn’t say there’s anything wrong with that_

Tony: _And no, I didn’t tell him, because I don’t want him to have expectations. There’s going to be days when I can’t listen to his daily updates because I just won’t have the time. I don’t want him to get the wrong impression_

Steve: _You don’t want him to rely on you in case you become unreliable_

Tony had put in some calculations for F.R.I.D.A.Y. to crunch, and was now flipping through the photos from the flip phones while he spun lazily in his chair and waited for F.R.I.D.A.Y.’s simulation. He stopped spinning and glared up at the messages projected in the air. Trust Steve to be blunt about it. And was it so wrong that Tony was being careful?

He didn’t want Peter relying on him too much. He knew how it felt to be a kid continuously disappointed by the adults in his life.

Not that he was going to admit any of that to Steve.

“I just don’t want him to get the wrong expectations.”

F.R.I.D.A.Y. typed out his dictation and sent the message.

Steve: _Do you mind some advice?_

Tony huffed. “Yes, I do mind. Oh fine, I want to hear it anyway. Lay it on me.”

Steve: _We don’t have to talk about this._

“Oh, come on. You know we do, don’t give me an out now from the tough conversations just because you’re miles away.”

The answer took awhile to come back this time.

Steve: _You probably know better than I do because you’re the one dealing with having a young superhero on your hands looking up to you. I got his measure when we met at the airport and he’s very, very strong, fast, smart and he doesn’t like backing down from a fight. You have your hands full with that one. I don’t think anyone outside the situation will know better than you do what it’s like._

Tony scrubbed a hand over his face. Some days, the weight of responsibility for one single enhanced teenager seemed to overwhelm his worries about the fate of the world. It shouldn’t, it made no sense that it did, but there it was.

Which was why he did want to hear what Steve had to say. He couldn’t help latching onto one part though.

“How would you know if he looked up to me? I’m pretty sure the airport fight didn’t include time for a tête-à-tête between the two of you,” Tony pointed out.

The response was swift this time.

Steve: _You’ve been boasting about how smart he is all the time. Young smart superhero, into science and technology, of course he looks up to Tony Stark, Iron Man, genius billionaire playboy philanthropist_

Tony rolled his eyes, even though he was ducking his head and grinning. _Ducking his head_. Thank god there was no one around in the workshop. How did Steve make him feel like a bashful teen from all the way across the ocean?

Tony said, “I’m just worried I’m going to screw him up.”

Steve: _Then don’t screw him up. Try harder._

Tony winced. Tough words from Steve, but it was kind of what Tony expected from the guy who gave pep talks about how if you died in battle, walk it off. And… maybe Steve was right. It was hard to admit that, but Tony had been keeping Peter at a distance because of his own worries. Maybe he did have to try harder.

Another message came in.

Steve: _He already has expectations. You’re the first superhero he’s worked with and he looks up to you. You aren’t changing those expectations by keeping away. I think all he will really need is for you to be there for him._

Tony leaned back against his chair, spinning it slowly again.

“Yeah, I’ll talk to him,” Tony said, not looking at the wall of text messages, like that made it easier. “Thanks, Steve.”

He would call Spiderling and tell him how proud he was. Then he would tell him about the FBI bust that was probably going down right now. Peter would probably like to hear how the crooks were caught.

* * * * * *

After the total clusterfuck involving the ferry, things were pretty dicey with Peter for a while there.

When Tony found out Peter had endangered himself and a literal boat-load of people by lying and messing around with the Spider-Man suit, Tony had basically lost it. He channeled his dad like a high handed asshole, which he only regretted after his heartrate slowed down enough that he didn’t feel like he needed to be checked in to a hospital. He still thought he did the right thing in taking away the suit, but he knew he lost control of the situation as well and he wasn’t sure he got the point across when he was so angry and frightened he could barely think.

He was harsh. He was much too harsh on Peter.

But he knew he couldn’t back down, because Peter needed to see Tony’s point. He'd speak to Peter again once he had left Peter to stew long enough in the consequences of his own decisions.

God, being an adult responsible for someone else was hard.

So, despite the uncomfortable worry heavy against his chest, Tony had brilliantly decided to wait until after Peter’s homecoming. Maybe a taste of normalcy would help Peter rethink his position on superheroing, Tony had thought. What a genius Tony had been. That sure worked out well.

Thinking about Peter, crushed under a building, almost sliced in half by the Vulture, it scared Tony. It _terrified_ him.

If only there was someone else who could provide better guidance. But Vision was still learning the ropes, and Rhodey was busy with the Accords and his physio. All that was left was this bad hand going by the name Tony Stark.

God, he missed Steve. He wanted Steve to be here, because Steve would be so much better at this. But even if Steve wasn’t up for this responsibility, Tony still desperately wished Steve was there just so he could talk to him, face-to-face. He would get so much grief and teasing from Steve on the subject, but it would all be worth it just to see that wry smile on Steve’s face as he told Tony to pull his head out of his ass.

Tony must be losing his mind to miss Steve telling him to get his act together.

“You have a message, boss.”

Tony jumped, eyes flying open. He'd been moping in bed, the events of the last couple days making his thoughts whir and spin too much to let him get any sleep.

“Who is it?”

“It’s from Capybara.”

Tony had told himself that the nickname was totally necessary to mask Steve’s real identity in case his systems ever got compromised, but hah, what was the likelihood of that? In truth, he just liked how cute the animals looked and how the word rolled off his tongue.

Tony buried his face in a pillow and groaned. Then he lifted his head and said, “Project the message, uh, there.”

He waved at his currently opaque windows. It always felt weird to have Steve’s text messages read out to him in F.R.I.D.A.Y.’s voice, so he preferred reading them.

Steve: _So, the ferry, huh?_

Tony groaned, and said, “Display both sides of the conversation and convert my voice to text, F.R.I.D.A.Y.”

“Sure thing. I’m ready, boss.”

Steve was already sending another message.

Steve: _Then something about a quinjet? Did the kid go rogue?_

Tony rolled over in bed, and pillowed his head on his arms. “He disabled my trackers and stalked a bunch of villains all around the country. Obviously I’ve been a bad influence.”

Tony pulled the comforter higher as he peered out at the response.

Steve: _Stubborn, reckless, trying to do the right thing, biting off more than he can chew. I kind of like the kid._

“Hah, you would.”

Steve: _Don_ _’t be too hard on him._

“Oh god, I can’t believe you’re advocating for him, after the danger he put himself and a hell lot of people in,” Tony said, muffled into his arms, but F.R.I.D.A.Y. translated him perfectly.

Steve: _I remember what it’s like to want to do more than I could and going for it anyway. I was just luckier._

Tony sighed. “Yeah, yeah. I get it. Well, I thought I needed to set some boundaries, so I took away his Spider-Man suit.”

Steve: _Poor kid._

“I don’t know why I ever thought you were the rational one out of the lot of us.”

Steve: _It’s only relative._

“Wow, burn,” Tony said admiringly.

Steve: _Then he went looking for trouble anyway?_

Tony shook his head, even though he couldn’t be seen. “That’s the thing. He didn’t. He really didn’t. I mean, I think taking away the suit was the right lesson, and I said something suitably dramatic about how if he was nothing without the suit, then he shouldn’t have it.”

Steve: _Ouch_

Tony said a little defensively, “I was making a point! Okay, then I was kind of an asshole to him, but he really took the whole thing to heart anyway. He kept his nose clean and everything. He was— well, he was pretty good.”

Steve: _I’m sensing a ‘but’._

Tony sighed and told him the whole horrible tale.

He wrapped up with, “He was listening and keeping away from trouble, but then trouble went looking for him anyway. I took away the Spider-Man suit with all its safety features as some sort of lesson, and that was when he needed it the most. I really fucked up.”

Steve: _Come on, Tony. I don’t think you could have predicted that the person behind the weapons would find Peter like that. You can’t actually predict the future._

“The poor kid,” Tony mumbled. “What a shitty homecoming dance.”

Steve: _What are you going to do now?_

Tony had no fucking clue.

All Tony had wanted was for Peter to go to his dance and be a regular kid, to remember what a normal life was like, before Tony had a sit down with him about learning his limits as a teenage superhero. But that went wheels up.

He thought about himself at that age. He had been in university, writing papers, partying and drinking with people years older than he was. What did he know about the normal life? Could a boy with spidery superpowers really learn to live a normal life?

Maybe he was pushing Peter too hard to go back to being a normal kid?

Tony said, “I think… I’m going to give him options. And let him make his own decisions instead.”

Maybe being an adult was giving advice and being there, letting the teenager set his own boundaries, no matter how much it terrified Tony to relinquish that control.

Steve: _The thought is stressing you out, isn’t it?_

“I can feel my blood pressure shooting through the roof at the idea. Do you— Do you think it’s the right thing to do?”

Steve: _Hell if I know, Tony._

“Well, that’s comforting!”

Steve: _Hey… take a deep breath. That first advice I gave you? I think it still stands. Make your decision and be there for him. If it doesn’t work out, try again. You don’t only get one shot at this._

That stopped Tony’s churning thoughts. He turned it over in his mind, and wished again that Steve was here so he could see his face. For some reason, Tony thought that this might not be just about Peter.

You don’t only get one shot at it. It was kind of a relief to hear it — well, read it — from Steve Rogers of all people.

Tony let out a deep breath and curled deeper into his pillow, finally relaxing for the first time that day. “Thanks, Steve. That’s a pretty good point.”

Steve: _I have my moments._

“You really do,” Tony said. “I hope you know that as well. That you don’t only get one shot at… things.”

Steve: _Things, huh? What things specifically?_

Tony tucked the blanket around himself. “Just things in general. Whatever things you want.”

Steve: _I’ll hold that to you._

“Should I be worried?”

Steve: _It’ll come up when you least expect it._ _:)_

Surely that wasn’t innuendo, not from Steve…

“Oh no, not the smiley faces, please. I did not peg you as an emoticons type of guy.”

Steve: _Combining art with textual communication doesn’t sound like something I would like?_

Good point. Steve could struggle with pop culture references sometimes, but he took to modern technology like a duck to water in a middle of a draught. Graphical icons plus text messages would totally be something Steve would pick up quick and like a lot.

But still, Tony decided to buckle down, just to keep the flow of conversation going.

“But emoticons aren’t art,” he said.

There was half a minute of delay before the next message came in. It wasn’t a text message, but a cartoonish drawing of a Captain America bear frowning. In true emoticon style, there was only a teddy bear head, with Cap’s blue headgear that had a white A on the front. The Capbear had a frowning snout and tiny frown lines.

Tony laughed.

“Love it. Alright, I withdraw that statement. Emoticons are definitely art when Steve Rogers is behind them.”

Steve: _I rest my case._

“You’re such a dork,” Tony said, and then was immediately embarrassed at how fond he sounded, even though there was no one to hear it but F.R.I.D.A.Y. who had seen him at his worst.

Thank god this was a dictation, not a voice message.

Steve: _I learned from the best._

Steve: _It’s late where you are. Are you going to bed soon?_

“I’m already in bed. Is it late where you are?”

Steve: _It’s early. I’m sure you can work it out._

It was as good as a written permission from Steve for Tony to track him.

Tony smiled. “Good morning, Steve. Have a good run.”

Steve: _Good night, Tony. Have a sweet dream._

* * * * * *

Six months later, Tony was travelling by car in Japan when it got hijacked. Things happened very, very quickly. One minute he was reading through the email Pepper had sent him, and the next, his phone rang.

It was Steve.

Fuck, he knew it was trouble, because Steve never _called_.

He was in a driverless car, one of his latest inventions he was here to promote to a Japanese company, and he knew he'd have to disable auto-drive and take over if he needed to do any fancy manoeuvring. There was also the briefcase with his suit in it in the backseat.

Before he could do any of those things, something big rammed into the side of the car, and the car went flying, smashing into another car in the next lane.

Everything went dark.

When Tony gasped his way to consciousness, he had to push aside the airbag that had deployed so that he could drag in a desperate breath of air. He hadn’t done much more than that when the door on the driver’s side wrenched open with a horrific screech, and a large man reached in to grab Tony. Tony tried to twist, tried to elbow joints and weak points, but he was disoriented and his head was spinning. The other man grunted when his blows landed, but he efficiently cut the seatbelt and dragged Tony over the gear shaft, pulling him out onto the street.

It was the early evening in Tokyo, so the streets had been busy. There were cars stopped all along the junction, people climbing out of their vehicles. There was another wrecked car next to Tony’s, but to his relief, Tony registered the lone driver crawling out the passenger side and screaming at them in Japanese. Pedestrians were leaving the safety of the sidewalks, some people tried to push forward, maybe to offer help, but there were four — no, it was five— large men, all in black and carrying big guns, menacing everyone back with weapons and shouts. Tony took in the chaos and confusion in a daze and before he could formulate a thought, he was dragged to the side and shoved into a van.

Then the door slammed behind him, and it was done. He was kidnapped.

Again.

Fuck.

* * * * * *

Tony really was over it. He had been kidnapped a couple times when he was a kid, hazards of being a child in a wealthy family. But the number of times he had been kidnapped as an adult was far more embarrassing. The number of times he had been kidnapped _this year alone_ was a blow to his pride. What was it that he was projecting that people felt made him a good kidnapping target? Did he seem weak? Was building Iron Man from a box of spare parts not impressive enough nowadays?

At least the kidnapping in India hadn’t reached any news organizations. This one was too public not to be splashed all over social media and news sites. Damnit.

They were depressing thoughts to entertain as Tony lay on the floor, but after something like twelve hours where nothing happened, it wasn’t like there was anything else he could do. It looked like he was locked in someone’s storeroom, six by eight feet in size, with stacked boxes of stationary and paper for company. The room smelled musty and the bare bulb was surprisingly bright, casting stark shadows all around him. He had prowled around and poked at every inch of the room, opened all the old cardboard boxes to investigate their contents. Four blank walls, one solid door with a bolt on the other side; it was all very old school, which was a good defence against Tony. You couldn’t hack old school.

There were some desperate measures he could take, but there was still too much uncertainty to try it out now. They had blindfolded him in the van and then literally carried him from the van to the current location so he had no idea where he was.

All they had told him was that he had to wait until the boss arrived to tell him what to do. It was a no brainer that he was probably here to make or fix something. Tony was starting to feel like a prized engineering monkey, picked up all around the world to perform at will.

The door swung open, interrupting his mopey thoughts. He looked up sharply to see a dark silhouette against the open doorway. Under the dim lighting, he could make out bright eyes and a beard. Was this the boss?

Then the man stumbled in as someone gave him a shove from behind.

“We’ll deal with you when the boss gets back,” said a voice from outside before the door was slammed shut.

Tony sat up, instantly wary of the newcomer. It sounded like a new prisoner, but this could be a trap. It wasn’t paranoia if they really were out to get you.

The man slid down to sit across from Tony. It brought him closer to Tony’s eye level, and the change in perspective caused a shift in Tony’s mind. Something about the colour of those eyes, and the line of that nose, how straight and long it was… And if he ignored the beard and focussed on those _lips_ …

“Steve?” Tony asked, incredulous.

Steve, a bearded grimy Steve, grinned. “Hey.”

Tony scrambled over to Steve’s side of the room, which only took a few steps really, and crouched beside him.

“What the hell are you doing here?” Tony demanded. “Are you hurt? Where are you hurt?”

Steve let Tony move his arms from around his midriff, and under Tony’s careful prodding, he made an exaggerated wince to show Tony where it hurt. There didn’t seem to be any blood at least.

“Cracked ribs probably. They just roughed me up a little when they caught me, but I should be okay in an hour,” Steve said.

Tony sat back on his heels. “Christ, Steve. What are you even doing here? How did you get caught?”

Steve said, deadpan, “First, I tried the backdoor. When they found me, I pretended I couldn’t fight very well. When they demanded why I was here, I said I knew Moroboshi International was behind your kidnapping. Then they decided to throw me in here with their other prisoner while they waited for their leader to come back.”

“Moroboshi International? They’re S.I.’s competitor and going into self-driving tanks for the military, but I didn’t think they would go this far,” Tony said in confusion, and then did a double take. “Wait, you purposefully let yourself get caught?”

Steve shrugged. “How else was I going to find out where they were holding you? There’s three other sites near Tokyo, so I wasn’t sure if I even had the right building.”

“Please, please at least tell me that you’re wearing a tracker of some kind,” Tony said fervently.

“I am.”

“Oh, thank god.”

“Or I was until they patted me down and took everything away from me. These guys know what they’re doing,” Steve said with a fair more careless shrug than Tony thought the situation warranted.

“Damnit. Now they have two of us. How is that any better?” Tony asked.

“You know that door isn’t going to hold me, right? We’ll figure something out soon, don’t worry.”

“With your cracked ribs? I don’t think so,” Tony said.

“Watch me,” Steve said, smiling in challenge.

Tony shook his head, reaching out to examine Steve’s ribs again “Maybe they knocked something loose in your head. Do you think we need to bind your ribs?”

Steve caught his hand, enfolding his fingers in a gentle grip. Tony startled. He looked up to see Steve surprisingly close, eyes searching Tony’s face. He hadn’t let go of Tony’s hand yet. For a heartbeat, they just looked at each other. Tony felt his world narrowing down to those penetrating blue eyes. 

“I’m okay, Tony. It’ll be fine in a moment or two,” Steve said, voice quiet. He gave Tony’s hand a comforting squeeze, and then let go. Tony’s hand felt strangely empty.

“Yeah, well,” Tony said, feeling inexplicably unmoored by the way Steve was looking at him, at how he had touched his hand. “I’m just— I’m worried. You shouldn’t have come after me. And what kind of lousy plan is this? What if they _killed_ you? You think common criminals wouldn’t take a shot at gaining fame by taking down Captain America?”

Steve smiled, which drew Tony’s eyes to his lips again. Steve’s mouth looked strangely soft when framed by his dark beard, and it made Tony wonder haplessly how they would feel, how would that _beard_ feel…

Tony snapped his eyes back up to Steve’s gaze, licking his lips nervously. Was he imagining it or did Steve’s eyes look darker? Had Steve noticed that lapse in attention? Tony felt a prickle crawl up his neck, his breath getting short for no reason at all.

“We’ve been tracking this group for a while so I know the name of their boss. I knew they wouldn’t kill me once I mentioned Osamu Moroboshi by name, at least not without asking him first,” Steve said with a strange, quiet intensity. “And I knew they wouldn’t recognize me. No one does with this beard. I took your advice.”

“My advice?” Tony echoed.

“Back in India, when you said that anyone could recognize me with that black mask. Well, no one would ever recognize me with the beard _and_ the mask,” Steve said.

“That’s… pretty smart,” Tony admitted. “Damn, that is one impressive beard. I didn’t know you could pull off the lustrous King of the Jungle look. You’ve turned into a mountain man.”

Steve laughed softly. “Lion and mountain man. You’re mixing your metaphors. Did you know I had to shave twice a day to keep clean-shaven?”

“Twice a day? Kids these days, such overachievers.”

Steve lifted a hand and brushed the back of his fingers against the edge of Tony’s goatee. Tony kept completely still, too shocked to even twitch. He felt the light touch skim against his skin, the faintest brush of leather against his face, and then it was gone. Tony wanted to clasp at his cheek, to pull those fingers back.

“Yeah, you’re completely lacking in the facial hair department,” Steve said wryly, looking at Tony from beneath his lashes.

“I didn’t say that,” mumbled Tony, not sure what to say really.

Steve looked at him and whatever he saw had him pulling back, leaning against the wall again. The breathless moment broke.

Tony hovered uncertainly before he shuffled over to sit next to Steve instead and lean back as well.

“Well, I guess we’re stuck here until I come up with something,” Steve said, sounding cheerful. “I’ll probably kick down the door and fight my way through. They have about a dozen people on site, maybe a couple more hiding upstairs. It should be alright.”

Tony gave him an incredulous look. “Maybe if you hadn’t let yourself take a beating in the first place. What kind of rescue is this?”

Steve smiled at him, which was somehow even more attractive with the beard. It was like the beard emphasized his smile, drew attention to how his cheeks moved and the pinkness of his lips. Or maybe Tony had just never seen such a teasing smile from Steve before.

“I kind of expected you to have something on you. Don’t you have a secret suit or gauntlet somewhere on you?” Steve asked, eyes alight with humor.

“This shirt used to be part of a bespoke suit if that’s what you mean,” Tony said, voice getting increasingly baffled.

“You know what I mean,” Steve said congenially.

“I’m here to promote the new range of Stark cars! Why would I have a repulsor powered suit with me in Japan? Do you know how hard it is to get them through customs?”

Steve raised an eyebrow and held even after Tony just stared at him. “It was in the trunk of your car?”

Tony slumped. “…in the backseat. Next time, I’m holding the suitcase between my knees, even if I’m driving. That’s what I get for believing Pepper when she says superheroing won’t be needed for this trip.”

“You don’t need your suit to be a superhero.”

Tony poked Steve in the shoulder. “Stop saying nice things to me. I’m still annoyed. This is such a shoddy rescue. You didn’t even manage to hide any weapons on you. In fact, you were depending on me having some hidden weapons!”

“I’m honestly just here to keep you company,” Steve said, grinning now.

“I want a refund on this rescue job!”

“It’s too late, you should have read the small print.”

Tony muttered, “If Rhodey was here, I would definitely be rescued already.”

“Last I heard, you provided the explosions and ammunition, and he just provided the getaway helicopter. I was expecting something similar. You’re slowing down with your age.”

“Are you— Did you— You did not just say that.”

“If the shoe fits…”

“You’re really pissing me off here.”

Steve eyed him, and then asked, “Am I really?”

Tony couldn’t tell. He was a little antsy at being kidnapped again, a little annoyed by Steve’s attitude, but this was the kind of banter he would usually love.

“It’s probably not you. Just being in this situation is making me grumpy,” Tony conceded, not very gracefully.

“No, it’s probably me as well,” Steve said with a shrug.

That high-handed asshole. But at the same time, yeah, okay, it probably had to do with Steve’s attitude too, because Steve was poking at his last nerve. But he liked when Steve called him out on his obfuscation, just like how Steve always smiled when Tony called Steve out on his bullshit.

The tension in Tony dissipated as he let out a long breath. “Fine, it’s you too. You’re doing it on purpose though.”

“Maybe a little,” Steve conceded the point but then as if to further prove it, he said, “But you can tell me, Tony, what did you bring?”

“Such an asshole,” Tony said, but with a laugh this time. “Look, I did have a couple of things, but they must have some intel on me, because they took away my two-shot watch-gauntlet and my glasses, which were designed to scan the room and send out a S.O.S. with coordinates. I was trialling a ring with a tracker, but they took that too.”

“What did that leave you?” Steve asked with total confidence.

“Why do I always have to be the one to do the hard work?” Tony said to the air with a shake of his head.

He knew he should be annoyed at Steve for being all-knowing, but he was also feeling pleased that Steve expected Tony to be so well-equipped at all times. Tony unbuttoned the top two pearlescent buttons on his shirt and then yanked off both buttons completely.

Steve looked on with interest. Tony pressed the buttons together, back-to-back, and then twisted. They clicked into place. He held the little device they formed on the palm of his hand.

“Separated, they’re inert. Now, they’re an explosive, just waiting to be activated. Number of taps on the top determines the wait time before it detonates. This one will result in a fairly big explosion. The next two buttons will result in a much smaller one,” Tony explained, before further admitting, “I got the idea after you talked about weaponizing my scarf.”

Steve didn’t even look smug. He just looked genuinely pleased, eyes crinkling as he examined the device without touching it. Smart man.

“That’s brilliant, Tony. Glad I could inspire a new creation too,” Steve said sincerely.

Tony shrugged. “Eh, it was just an idea. It’s not particularly useful without the glasses, because I can’t tell what’s on the other side. No point blowing up a wall if it only leads to another locked room, or if it leads to the outside but the building is on the edge of a sheer cliff or something. It was going to be my last resort. But since you’re here, and I’m sure you did some reconnaissance, you can factor this into our escape plan and we can get out of here when your ribs are feeling better.”

Steve shook his head and said, “We don’t have to wait, I’m fine.”

Then he got up, felt his sides a little and seemed satisfied with what he found. Tony scrambled to his feet.

“What, just like that?” Tony asked.

“Yeah, the ribs weren’t that bad off and they feel mostly healed now,” Steve said, stretching his arms back.

Tony did _not_ stare at his arched back.

“I thought we were waiting for something,” Tony said a little weakly.

“Nope. We were just catching up,” Steve said, turning to him with his patented boyish grin.

Tony couldn’t help but smile back. “You’re a madman.”

“It’s been awhile, Tony,” Steve said. “A few minutes respite isn’t going to hurt us.”

Tony stared at him, looked into that earnest gaze, and realized this was the most relaxed he had felt in weeks, despite being in the middle of a kidnapping by unknown villains. Maybe Steve wasn’t that far off the mark when he said he was here to provide company. The interaction had done more for Tony than any amount of health retreats had managed to achieve.

“Yeah, alright. The Steve Rogers Spa, complete with enforced relaxation. I can dig it,” Tony said with a smile.

“It’s a little on the expensive side, but a rich guy like you can probably afford it,” Steve said.

Tony laughed. “Okay, big fella, where do you want this explosive to go.”

Steve pointed. “That corner will work best. We’re on the ground floor and that should lead us straight out onto the street. I have a motorcycle parked a few buildings down. If we could do something to slow them down when they start following us, that should buy us more than enough time.”

Tony nodded, and considered the stacks of cardboard boxes in the room. “We pile the boxes in front of the door and set off a smaller explosion in the boxes. They’ll be slowed down by the fire when they come investigate which should buy us some time to get on that bike and go.”

“Good thinking, Tony. Let’s get on it.”

The plan went off without a hitch. There was a strange moment when Tony had removed another two buttons to make the second explosive device, and Steve had just stood there, watching. It felt like he was undressing for Steve, not like he was undressing to make things go boom. The way Steve’s eyes lingered electrified him, made his heart pound even though nothing was really happening.

Then the moment passed, and Steve turned away to examine the wall they were about to blow up. It was probably all in Tony’s vivid imagination anyway, just wishful thinking from prolonged proximity in a small room.

They set the timer on the explosives and huddled in the middle of the room. There was another odd moment when Steve stood close, but kept between Tony and the wall they were planning to blow up, like he was shielding Tony with his larger frame. Tony was about to call him out on his unnecessary chivalry, even if Steve was the one with the super serum, because Tony had already calculated the force of the explosion and they would be just fine. But there was no more time for arguments, because the wall blew up in a short and sharp blast, bricks and wood exploding inwards and crumbling. At the same time, the cardboard boxes lit up.

They didn’t waste any time. In less than a minute, they were out on the street and running as fast as they could. Well, as fast as Tony could, since Steve could undoubtedly go faster. Steve still reached his motorcycle first, a large and futuristic looking Kawasaki Ninja of some kind, if Tony recognized it right. He knew Steve favored Harley Davidsons back home, but maybe he was trying something new in Japan.

The thing was that Tony was prepared for the motorcycle. Steve had always preferred motorcycles, old or new, big power rockets roaring between his thighs. Oh, the image had provided food for all kinds of hungry, dirty thoughts. But there was something about Steve now, unshaven, all in black tactical wear, swinging a leg up to straddle the gleaming motorcycle. His blue eyes were challenging in the low light, something reckless and unrestrained in his stare.

“Come on up, Tony. As I said, you provide the explosions, I’ll provide the getaway ride.”

There was something about the way he said it…

Tony shook himself out of his reverie and climbed up behind Steve. He made sure to keep his crotch away from Steve’s ass, because he wasn’t sure all the adrenaline and close contact wasn’t going to result in an awkward situation.

“Hold on tight!” Steve called out over his shoulder.

Tony took in a deep breath of warm leather, appreciated the wide breadth of the shoulders in front of him, and decided to take Steve up on the invitation. He wrapped his arms around Steve’s waist, feeling the hard abs beneath his forearms as he held on firmly. Tony shivered. He pressed the side of his face against the middle of Steve’s back, trying to tamp down on his feelings.

The warmth of Steve’s sturdy body against his, the strength of those shoulders beneath his cheek, it felt surreal.

It felt perfect.

Tony let out a whoop as the motorcycle roared to life and they raced off down the street.

* * * * * *

The rest of the trip in Japan went smoothly, and Tony was back in the Avengers facilities by the end of the week. He leaned back in his chair in the office that he rarely used, only coming in here when he wanted a different view. It used to be Steve’s office, and Tony liked to try to imagine what Steve was thinking when he sat here behind his computer screen, surrounded by walls of windows that looked out into clear blue skies and a perfectly manicured green lawn.

He suspected Steve had probably hated it.

If Steve ever came back, and these days, Tony felt more hopeful for some reason, they would move the facilities again. Or at least get Steve an office on the ground floor, closer to the training area so that there would be more people around and Steve didn’t always have to sit here in isolation.

“F.R.I.D.A.Y., take a message for Capybara,” Tony said, flicking through the photos from the flip phones that were right now projected in the air, as he was wont to do lately.

“Ready, sir.”

“Moroboshi International shouldn’t be a problem anymore. I’m handling this from a business angle. I think they had some relation with the Hydra kidnapping attempt in India, based on what I could get out of them through the sheer force of lawyers and a wrathful Pepper, and you don’t want to ever see that, honestly. But I’ve no idea when Moroboshi International started working with Hydra. They have always been a ruthless, cutthroat company known for its shady dealings, but I don’t know how Hydra factors into this. There might be more behind this,” Tony said, sending the photos spinning as he started drawing schematics for a new and improved button-sized explosive.

Surely he could do something with shoelaces too. Nothing over the top, he had to make sure he didn’t blow off his feet or anything.

It was ten minutes later and a new design on the way to the fabricator when F.R.I.D.A.Y. said, “Message from Captain Steve Rogers.”

“Put it up please,” Tony said, waving at the space above his desk.

Steve: _You_ _’_ _re right, there’_ _s something strange about all this. We’_ _ll get to the bottom of it._

Tony frowned. “No, I think you have better things to work on than this. Leave this one with me.”

Steve: _I_ _’_ _ll keep an ear out anyway._

“I'd expect nothing less,” Tony said with a fond smile.

Less than a minute later and Tony received a picture of a sketched Captain America bear emoticon giving him a big smile and a thumbs-up. Tony laughed, shaking his head. He sent the image to the printer. On second thought, he stopped the spinning photos in the air and picked out the photo of the watercolor painting. He sent that to the printer as well. They would brighten up the workplace.

Next, Tony pulled out the schematics for the energy shield he had been working on ever since he dreamt of a shattered vibranium shield under Wanda’s influence. The vibranium shield was still intact, in his inventory now, but he was painfully aware of Steve going about without a weapon these days. Steve would argue that his body was a weapon, but Tony wanted more than that for him.

Steve’s defence and offence had always been a shield. It seemed wrong that he didn’t have one now, through Tony’s own cursed doing.

Tony couldn’t just give back the vibranium shield now, not while Steve was still on the run. It was too well connected to Captain America, and he would be easily spotted and tracked if he had that with him. An energy shield would far better suit a bearded masked vigilante, dressed all in black, and  could provide some plausible deniability too.

He already had a prototype shield ready, so it wouldn’t take long for Tony to properly finish it up. Considering Steve’s new outfit, he tweaked the designs on his hologram, adding leather to the thin gauntlet which would power up the shield.

Tony looked at the projected numbers, and imagined the black sheath on Steve’s forearm, self-adjusting in size and to be worn over any item of clothing.

Not bad, not bad at all. 

The next time Natasha dropped in at the Avengers facility, Tony would pass the energy shield to her. She had managed to avoid any charges since T’Challa had recanted his testimony against her. Now, she was travelling the world, helping with the Accords, slowly finding cracks in the agreements to turn the tide for the Secret Avengers who were still on the run. She would know who the energy shield was for.


	3. Chapter 3

This time, Tony wasn’t out of the country. Hell, he wasn’t even out of the state, that much he remembered. Things were a little bit hazy. Of all places he could be in, he had woken up in an office of some sort. The last thing he could remember was that he was planning to head down to Queens to meet up with Peter. They had been catching up more regularly, taking turns meeting at either the Avengers facility or somewhere more convenient for Peter, depending on his school schedule.

Tony couldn’t actually remember making the trip. He was probably taken en route and was suffering some memory loss. His mouth tasted bitter and his mind was muzzy, like when he first woke up from surgery. So, they had used a chemical of some sort to knock him out.

While processing all this, Tony was also taking in the rest of the room. He was in someone’s office, a rather big one, with fancy glass walls that were mostly for show because they were entirely covered in a kind of patterned glazing that meant you couldn’t actually see out of the office. There was a big oak desk in front of him, probably antique, which was pretty pretentious. On the desk was a state-of-the-art computer, but not Stark tech so probably worthless, and there was a neat stack of paperwork to one corner.

Tony leaned to the side, tilted his head, and could finally make out the words Trinational Commission on a letterhead. The name sounded familiar, but he was too muddled to sift it out of his memory, so he parked the thought. He swivelled his chair to see behind him and could see wide windows overlooking a familiar city skyline. So he was still in New York.

The biggest worry was probably that he was tied to a chair. His wrists were tied to the arms of the chair, but his legs were free, which was why he could still swivel. It was also a chair with wheels on it, so theoretically, he was somewhat mobile. But it wouldn’t get him very far. And he would look ridiculous.

The second biggest worry was that he was mostly naked. Other than his boxer briefs, he didn’t have on a stitch of clothing, not even his socks. It was a bit of a shame, because he could have tested out his new toys in his clothing. So whoever took him knew his propensity for hidden weapons and was playing it safe.

Even without his clothing, he could try something if he was free to move about. Being tied to the chair was really hampering his style. He twisted his hands, tugging and pulling at his bonds as his mind finally shifted to a higher gear.

Trinational Commission was ringing some bells now. It was another shady multinational corporation that would be Stark Industries’ competitor if S.I. wasn’t so far ahead on the curve. This had to be related to the previous two kidnapping attempts. But what were the three separate companies working on together? Kidnapping innocent CIOs from their top competitor? It sounded ridiculous, like a plot out of a silly B grade action movie.

Then he saw someone approaching behind the glazed glass of the office door. Tony froze. He couldn’t see clearly through the door, but he could see an outline. The figure paused at the front of the door. It was a man with a slim build, not very tall.

The door opened and it all came together.

“Tony Stark,” Justin Hammer said with a wide grin, expansively spreading his arms like he was welcoming a hug.

Tony stared at him blankly, determined to get under his skin. “Jason Hammer.”

Hammer’s grin twitched, before he held it in place in a rictus. “You know it’s Justin Hammer. We know each other too well now for you to pretend you don’t remember my name.”

Then Hammer gave him a lascivious once over, giving his words an unfortunate innuendo. For a moment, Tony was disturbed by the idea that maybe he had a one night stand with Hammer at some point and forgotten about it. But no, nothing of that sort was coming to mind. He was sure he would remember such a disappointing encounter.

“Can’t imagine where you got that idea from. I didn’t even know you were out of jail. Which judge did you bribe to get out on parole?” Tony said, keeping his voice bland and as unperturbed as he could.

“Come now, my jailbreak made the headlines. You don’t have to pretend you weren’t well aware of it, waiting for the moment I would come after Stark Industries again,” Hammer said with a confident grin as he came further into the room.

Tony didn’t have to feign his surprise. “You broke out of jail? How did _you_ manage that?”

Hammer’s grin faltered and he started to look genuinely annoyed. “I have some friends who were just as keen to see me out of jail. You didn’t know I was out? How could you have missed it?”

“This is going to disappoint you to hear, but I really don’t keep track of petty criminals,” Tony said drily.

Hammer stepped closer, stopping right in front of Tony and bending down to meet his gaze from less than a foot away. “I’m not a petty criminal. I’ve arranged for you to be kidnapped three times now.”

“And I got out twice. I’m not too worried, honestly.”

“You had help the last two times. And the kidnappers were morons. It’s why I’ve decided to step out of the shadows and do this personally. Never send boys to do a man’s job,” Hammer said, putting a finger directly on the large surgical scar on Tony's chest, and drawing his finger idly down.

The touch against his scar made Tony flinch.

Hammer stopped, and then said softly, “Now, now, Tony. I’m not going to hurt you. Well, not me personally. Not if you work with me, anyway.”

Tony snapped back, trying to cover up his earlier flash of fear, “Work with you on what? What sort of stupendous plan is this? I know you’re working with Hydra, Moroboshi International and Trinational Commission. What did you do? Sell them information?”

Hammer smiled with obvious pleasure. “Got it in one. I have a few old employees watching your movement and bribing some of your staff. I just fed information to the other companies on your whereabouts, with the promise that they would deliver you to me once they got what they needed out of you.”

Damnit, he had to weed out spies again. So Hydra wanted him to work on alien tech. Moroboshi International probably wanted his self-driving and self-piloting technology. 

Tony asked warily, “What does Trinational Commision get out of this?”

“Always so smart,” Hammer said, straightening. “Trinational just wants to buy out S.I. With you out of the way, it will only be a matter of time before your stocks take a plunge and they get a chance at your company.”

Hah. As if. Hammer really knew nothing about Pepper and the iron grip she had on the company.

Hammer started to circle around him, placing a heavy hand on his bare shoulder. The hair on the back of Tony’s neck stood up as he forced himself not to flinch away.

“And what do you want from me?” Tony asked.

“I want us to work together, Tony. You’re held back by your ridiculous conscience, but if you work for me, we could really revolutionize the world of weaponry,” Hammer said, dragging his hand across Tony’s back, making Tony's skin crawl wherever he touched.

“Were you always this creepy or has prison changed you?” Tony said. “And I’m not manufacturing weapons with or for you, Hammer. Don’t be ridiculous. I’m not having that kind of blood on my hands again, and I’m not going to tie the Stark brand with your reputation for shoddy workmanship. That would be too embarrassing.”

Hammer walked round, hand still dragging along Tony’s skin, and looked Tony in the eye. “I can be persuasive.”

Tony’s eyes widened. Really? Was this really going the way Tony thought? But then he saw the gun holster under Hammer’s suit jacket, and knew where this was really going, regardless of Hammer’s creepy obsession. Brute force was how it always went with kidnappings.

Hammer was smiling at him, patting him on the arm, and Tony weighed up the positives of rolling over Hammer’s foot with his chair.

Then the windows behind them exploded inwards. Hammer fell back in shock, and Tony could only curl forward instinctively. He looked up in time to see a dark figure launch itself towards Hammer and deliver a hard right hook. The newcover unhooked a thick cable from the back of his harness, letting it fall free as he delivered another blow to Hammer who had doubled over.

Tony caught a glimpse of a dark beard beneath a mask.

_Steve_.

Hammer fell back to the ground, and started screaming, “Blizzard! Blizzard, for fuck’s sake, get in here!”

Blizzard? What the fu—

The glass walls of the office crackled and spat, frost spreading across them at alarming speed before they shattered and fell to pieces. Then a man in a thin, white armored suit was striding in through the broken glass. He had on blue gauntlets which he aimed at Steve, shooting at him with a spray of ice. Steve threw himself back, the red energy shield flaring to life against his forearm and fending off the spray.

Blizzard came fully into the room, firing more ice at Steve. What kind of weapon was this? Tony looked at the frozen shards of glass and wondered what the hell it could do to a human body. Would Steve survive a second go at being iced? They couldn’t take the chance. It would be Steve’s worst nightmare too, what the hell must he be thinking.

There wasn’t much room for Steve to manoeuver and Tony stared in helpless horror as Steve backed into a wall, face in a tight grimace visible from across the room.

Helpless? Fuck this helpless bullshit.

Tony turned and saw that Hammer was still on the ground, but was fumbling out his gun from his holster. Sliding his chair awkwardly to the side and then swivelling to turn around, Tony kicked out hard with both legs against the wall beneath the windows, which sent the chair, and himself, flying backwards towards Hammer.

He was braced for impact when the chair collided with Hammer’s fallen form, and then the force of it caused him to tip right over. His stomach dropped as he crashed down onto Hammer, breath knocked out of him painfully. But he was ready for this too, and he immediately started turning, scrabbling at Hammer. It was awkward, strange, because his arms were still tied to the chair but his hands were free. He had very limited range.

Hammer swore and tried to fight him off, but he had Tony and the chair’s entire weight on top of him. Tony could feel the gun in Hammer’s hand and scrambled desperately at his grip. He clawed and pulled, hefting a shoulder down to try to grind into Hammer’s chest and stomach, trying to knock the air out of him.

A loud bang went off, thunderously loud at this proximity. Tony had no time to think, because Hammer’s grip slackened. He must have shot Hammer, and that caused a pang of guilt, but there was _no time_. He grabbed the gun, and turned it awkwardly. Thank god Hammer took the safety off already.

Tony looked up. Steve had just jumped to the side and rolled, aiming to get out of the office and into a wider area. Blizzard was striding after him, his back to Tony and Hammer.

Tony aimed, took a breath, and fired.

The first bullet went wide, but it was enough for Tony to adjust his aim and pull the trigger again, and then again.  The third bullet hit Blizzard in the lower torso. Tony fired again, and pierced Blizzard in the calf. He stumbled, hands dropping as he registered the hits.

It was enough time for Steve to barrel forward and hit down hard with his energy shield, knocking Blizzard out with one blow.

“No, no, this isn’t supposed to happen…”

Tony turned at Hammer’s voice. He felt a little dizzy from the fall, and probably from the lingering effects of the earlier drugs.

“Give it up, Hammer. It was a dumb plan from the start,” Tony said.

His voice sounded strangely faint. He turned and met Hammer’s wide gaze. Then he was being moved off Hammer, shifted to the side. It must be Steve moving him, because Tony was as immobile as he could be, and Hammer’s hands were held up uselessly in front of him.

Tony noticed that they were covered in blood. Damn, how badly was Hammer injured? The man was pretty horrible, but he didn’t mean to kill him. 

“We need to call the ambulance,” Tony said, ending on a cough. “Are you dying, Hammer?”

Hammer’s eyes were wide. “I didn’t mean— I didn’t want this.”

Then Tony’s arms were cut free from the chair and he was lifted out of it. Steve laid him on the floor for some reason and pushed him flat down. Tony felt strangely compliant, like he was disconnected from his body.

He looked up into Steve’s worried blue eyes, mouth turned down and a frown visible even through the black mask.

“I’m fine,” Tony whispered.

Why was he whispering?

Steve nodded, his voice urgent as he agreed, “You’re fine. You’re going to be fine.”

Then he pressed down hard on Tony’s stomach, and pain, biting deep pain flared from inside. Tony gasped, grabbing at Steve’s hands weakly. They were slippery.

“Oh shit…” Tony said, because he was a genius, and he knew what this meant.

“You’ve been shot, Tony,” Steve said. “But you’re going to be fine. The ambulance is on its way.”

“Sure thing,” Tony gasped, and then he remembered. “Don’t get arrested.”

He stared up at Steve’s worried face, wanted to touch it to soothe away that deep furrow Steve wore when he got worked up…

…then he passed out.

* * * * * *

There was the sensation of floating, until he realized he could feel something soft pressed against his back. He still felt like he was floating, but like the mattress beneath him must be weightless too, and he was drifting off into the sky, bed and all. Slowly, he registered the feeling of the blanket on top of him, something light pulled up to his chest. He couldn’t feel all his body parts, but it didn’t seem important. His body felt distant, in that familiar muffled way he associated with the really good drugs.

That thought made him frown.

If he had been kidnapped again, he was going to be very annoyed…

But no, that thought brought back another memory. A frightened, worried face hovering over him.

Right, Tony really should try to wake up now.

He registered a slight movement against his hand, which made him realize that he was holding something. No, not something. Someone. He was holding someone’s hand. That… was strange.

He peeled open an eyelid and peered out groggily. It still took him a good minute of uncomprehending staring to register something maroon and gold.

“Why are you holding my hand, Vision?” Tony croaked.

He opened both eyes, blinking until Vision came into better focus. Vision stared back at him placidly.

“Based on my observations of human behavior, it seemed like a natural way to provide comfort in times of distress,” Vision said.

Tony sighed. “What did we say about observing human behavior from television?”

“Not to do it,” Vision agreed calmly. “But I did not learn it from television.”

That led Tony to frown, but he decided not to pursue that line of questioning. Maybe Vision had been lurking in hospitals just to observe how he should behave by Tony’s bedside.

“I was unconscious anyway. How would holding my hand provide me with comfort?” Tony asked, a little grouchily.

“I didn’t say it was to provide _you_ with comfort,” Vision said, squeezing Tony’s hand.

The words and movement surprised Tony. He squeezed back reflexively, which led Vision to smile at him.

Tony remembered the couple of times Pepper had sat by his bedside, holding his hand. He remembered when Rhodey squeezed his shoulder after Tony had woken up in the hospital or at home after some injury or drinking-related adventure. Then he realized that Vision had just shown him another side to all those little moments.

Wow, Tony really sucked at fundamental human interactions. A cyborg was learning faster than he ever did.

“I’ll go get Colonel Rhodes and Miss Potts,” Vision said.

Then Vision dematerialized his own hand and fazed through Tony’s grip, rather than waiting for Tony to let go. He floated out of his chair and headed for the door.

“Okay, that part is definitely not normal human behaviour,” Tony called out, skin crawling at how Vision’s hand had just passed right through him. “Don’t faze through people when you don’t have to!”

Vision looked over his shoulder as he started to faze through the wall. “But it’s so much more convenient.”

“And use the door, damnit,” muttered Tony.

“That will never get old,” said a young voice beside him. “It’s so cool. I wonder how he does that. If he’s holding an object with him, can he faze the object with him too, or would it be left behind?”

Tony turned slowly to see Peter sitting on a chair with his legs pulled up so he was sitting cross-legged right on the edge of his chair. Considering his center of gravity, it didn’t look like he should be able to stay on that chair. Peter was wearing his street wear, so at least he didn’t come here as Spider-Man, smart boy. Where were they anyway? It didn’t look like Stark Tower’s infirmary, so he must have been taken to an actual hospital.

“Don’t you have school?” Tony asked on automatic.

Peter rolled his eyes. “It’s Sunday. It’s also ten _at night_.”

Tony frowned. “How long was I out? How many days has it been?”

“It’s the same day, Mister Stark. You were supposed to come have dinner with me and Aunt May, remember?” Peter asked with a trace of incredulous amusement. “You really don’t keep track of your days.”

“That’s enough lip from you, kid. And I don’t need to keep track of my days. When you’re a billionaire tech genius like me, you can have artificial intelligences run your life and tell you where to go at what time,” Tony said.

F.R.I.D.A.Y. piped up from the phone by his bed, “And then you can ignore your artificial intelligence’s well-planned schedules when you’re on a creative binge, Mister Parker.”

“So much lip from everyone around me,” Tony said. “I didn’t sign up for this.”

“You kinda did, Mister Stark,” Peter said with a smile.

“Hey Sticky-Stuff, before we get too deep into this mock the invalid game, do you know what happened to, um, a darkly dressed _patriot_ who might have been involved in my rescue? Not that I needed rescue, mind,” Tony said.

Peter made a face. “I really don’t like that nickname. And ah, he wasn’t here by the time I came, but Vision said he left before anyone could ask difficult questions, like, ‘please take off your mask, sir.’”

Tony felt relieved, a knot loosening in his chest he didn’t know was wound up in the first place. He took a quick moment to take stock of his physical situation, and noticed there was a growing echo of hurt in his abdomen. The painkillers were wearing off. But it was okay, Steve was okay. He didn’t have to try to retrieve him from a jail cell somewhere.

“Okay, that’s good. What about the idiots who kidnapped me? I think I shot one. And the other one shot me. Well, I might have contributed to shooting me too.”

“They’re both alive and the police have them. The one you shot had a bulletproof vest up top but you got him in the leg too. They say he had on this cool armor that he built with Hammer’s funding, but it was already leaking some kind of coolant by the time the police arrested him, from where you shot him,” Peter chattered away.

Tony let Peter’s ramble soothe away the remnants of his stress. At least it was over now. No more mysterious kidnappings hovering over Tony’s head.

“Might as well have our meeting here then,” Tony said. “How’s school? Did you wow them at your science fair? Your Aunt May still pissed off at me?”

“School’s okay. I won a trophy at the science fair. I think give Aunt May another… month. Or year. Or two,” Peter said sheepishly.

Before they could delve any further into _that_ happy conversation, the door opened and Rhodey and Pepper walked in.

The sight of Rhodey walking was still enough to thrill him.

“You need to stop getting kidnapped, Tones,” Rhodey said, squeezing Tony’s ankle through his blanket. “It’s starting to make the rest of us look bad by association.”

Pepper came closer on her towering heels and bent down, pressing a kiss to Tony’s forehead.

“There are easier ways to get our attention,” Pepper said, reaching out to hold his hand.

Remembering what Vision said, Tony squeezed her hand. Vision floated in through the open doorway, raising his eyebrows at Tony as if to say, ‘See, I can use doorways when I want to.”

Tony smiled, feeling warmed and comforted. The room felt busy. Just right. It wasn’t perfect, because there were more people he wished he had here as well, but maybe that was being greedy. This was pretty close to perfect.

* * * * * *

Tony used his own fingers for once.

Tony: _I’_ _m okay._ _:)_

Steve: _I know, but thanks for saying so anyway._

There was no Captain America emoticon bear, which was a little disappointing, but Tony figured Steve must be busy trying to get out of the country. It was okay. Tony had a lot to think about anyway.

* * * * * *

Except Steve wasn’t trying to get out of the country.

Two weeks later, Tony was pottering around, getting ready to go to bed when F.R.I.D.A.Y. said, “Captain Rogers is heading up.”

Tony paused in pulling back his comforter, and then changed direction. He was only wearing pyjamas bottoms, so he headed for the lush dark red robe hung up behind his door.

“In the lift?”

“Yes, boss. He’s not scaling up the side of the building,” F.R.I.D.A.Y. said with a touch of sarcasm.

“Well, that’s a relief,” Tony muttered.

Instead of heading out to the living room, Tony obstinately remained in his bedroom. He surveyed it quickly. The warm golden light from the recesses in the ceiling lit up the room. The bed was unmade, because he hadn’t gotten to it this morning, and he hadn’t let the cleaning bots in here today. There was a faint scent of oranges in the air from the hidden air freshener. He couldn’t see anything incriminating lying around, no sex toys, no used condoms, not that he had seen any kind of activity in his bedroom that would warrant that kind of exciting mess. It would do.

He sat on his bed. No, wait, he scrambled up as quickly as he could with a healing bullet wound, and lounged against his headboard instead. He made sure the robes were tied on loosely, with an enticing gap. Then he shifted the robe to cover the scar on his chest. Probably more enticing this way.

There was a knock on his door, no hesitation whatsoever.

Tony called out, “Come in. Uh, F.R.I.D.A.Y., unlock the door please.”

Steve opened the door and looked in with raised eyebrows. “Was that necessary? I know F.R.I.D.A.Y. would have told you I was here.”

“But I was already getting ready to go to bed,” Tony said, with little conviction.

Steve visibly took in the way Tony had his robe on and was lounging against his headboard. He leaned sideways against the doorframe, arms crossed in a relaxed posture. Dressed in the now familiar dark combat suit, his body cut a strong, long line against the brighter living room lights behind him. The pose emphasized those unbelievable shoulders that tapered to a strong waist, called attention to his very lovely long legs, one crossed behind the other. Damn, Steve was a champion lounger too. Why didn’t Tony know this about him? The thought made a bubble of mirth rise up within him, and he had to cough to cover a laugh.

From the way Steve’s eyes were watching him, Tony didn’t think Steve missed any of that.

“So… what are you doing here?” Tony asked. “I thought you would have left the country by now.”

Steve pushed off the doorframe and moved towards Tony. He stopped a few feet from the bed, like he wasn’t sure if he was welcomed.

“I wanted to see for myself that you were alright,” Steve said, voice low and eyes intense.

With a sudden wild impulse, Tony swung his legs off the bed and stood up. His hands went to the tie on his robe, resting on its knot.

“Then come and see,” Tony said, quiet but sure.

Steve was there in two long steps, hands resting on Tony’s. Tony swallowed, and then nodded. Steve gently started working on the dark red sash holding Tony’s robe mostly closed. Steve was looking down, as if the act of undoing the loose knot was the most complicated piece of work he had ever encountered. His brow was furrowed, his long lashes dark against his cheeks. In the low lighting, the beard made intriguing shadows against Steve’s cheeks, and Tony just wanted to know if it was as soft as it looked.

Before he even realized it, he had one hand up, resting against the side of Steve’s neck. The warmth against Tony’s palm shocked him out of his reverie. Steve’s eyes flicked up, met his gaze from beneath dark lashes, and then looked back down at the sash.

Silent permission.

Tony’s thumb brushed against the edge of Steve’s beard, once, twice. It was soft, not bristly and rough at all. Soft and warm against Tony’s skin. He wanted to kiss it.

Steve had undone the knot and was slowly, carefully parting the robe, giving Tony plenty of time to protest.

They had exchanged so many words since Siberia, possibly more than when they were actually living in the same city. In the past couple weeks, Vision’s words had left Tony really thinking, pondering the intricacies of human behavior. It had made him consider all the things that were never said. It had made him reconsider some actions in a different light, made him think about those intense stares and reckless smiles that he hadn’t quite understood.

Or maybe he just hadn’t dared to let himself understand.

Until now.

Steve’s eyes were still cast down, staring intensely at Tony’s skin as it was slowly revealed by the parting robe. Tony was wearing pyjamas pants, but no T-shirt, so his torso was bare for Steve’s gaze. Tony was never shy or modest about his body. He kept relatively fit and has never had much trouble attracting people. But it had been a long time since he had been naked with anyone, long before the scars on his chest. To his surprise, Tony didn’t feel awkward about the array of scars. This was Steve here, staring at him with what looked a lot like reverence even if it was hard for Tony to believe. This was Tony’s body, scarred but strong, a survivor’s body after everything life had thrown at him.

Steve traced the stitches to Tony’s right side, the tips of his fingers a light brush against healing flesh. Tony felt his skin flush with life beneath Steve's touch, singing and aching for more contact. Tony was surprised color didn’t bloom where their skin met, like there should be a physical mark left behind. He reached down impulsively and pressed Steve’s palm solidly against the closed wound.

Steve drew in a sharp breath, but he didn’t pull away.

“It didn’t hit anything vital. I wouldn’t have lost consciousness if it wasn’t for the drugs and shock to be honest,” Tony said, his voice still hushed with the _potential_ in the air.

“Fainted,” Steve said with a quirk to his lips, even though his eyes lacked any humor.

“Swooned in your arms,” Tony countered shamelessly.

That brought a real smile to Steve’s eyes, and Tony thumbed the dip in his left cheek, the darker shadow within the beard. Steve tilted his head, pressed his cheek firmer against Tony’s palm. Tony felt like he was breathing in rarefied air, his pulse thrumming as he tried to get enough oxygen to his racing brain.

Steve said, a little hoarsely, like he had been gutted and the words were pulled out of his belly, “I was afraid. God, Tony, I was so afraid.”

Tony smiled, lopsided. “It’s the stuff of my nightmares too, but usually, you’re the one bleeding.”

Those clear blue eyes widened, and Tony just couldn’t take it anymore, not this suspense, not being this close but still apart.

“Tell me if I’m reading this wrong,” Tony said, and with a surge of courage, he stepped in, stepped closer until his chest was right up against Steve’s, then he tilted his head up, angling Steve down with the palm on his cheek.

But before he could close the distance between their mouths fully, Steve beat him to it. Steve swooped down, like he just couldn’t wait anymore, and pressed their lips together. Their mouths met with unerring accuracy, drawn together like this was what they had been shaped to do, to fit together like this.

Tony gasped, a sharp indrawn breath, and it was like he was breathing from Steve’s lungs. Steve groaned and pressed in harder, his arms coming around Tony’s waist inside the robe, the fabric of Steve's combat suit rough against Tony’s bare skin. Tony couldn’t get enough of it and arched to get closer, opening his mouth to Steve’s passionate and overwhelming kiss.

They pulled back a bare inch, gasped a synchronized breath, and pressed together again, like they couldn’t bear another moment apart, like they couldn’t stop now that they started. Tony wrapped his arms around Steve’s neck, trying to get as close as he could, wanting to rub his face all over Steve’s soft beard. He pulled back a little to kiss the corner of Steve’s lips, to kiss a downy cheek just so he could memorize how it felt against his lips, before Steve angled his head and captured Tony’s lips again. They moaned at the sensation, clung in desperation.

It was minutes or hours. Who knew? Who cared?

They parted with soft kisses, and came back for more. Tony worried on Steve’s lower lip until Steve groaned, deep in his chest, and kissed Tony back harder.

When their lips felt full, sore, _satisfied_ , they kissed cheeks, mouthed at ears, slowed down. Tony buried his face in Steve’s neck, breathing in behind his ear. He felt Steve kiss his earlobe, and then take it gently between his teeth experimentally. Tony shuddered in Steve’s embrace.

He ran wondering hands through the longer hair that curled at Steve’s nape, finally allowing himself to think that Steve really did look like a lion like this, a prince of men, wild and untameable but standing right in the circle of Tony’s arms.

“Tony,” Steve whispered right into Tony’s ear, resulting in another shiver. “Are you cold?”

“Not even a little bit,” Tony whispered back against Steve’s skin, and then pressed a kiss against his neck just because he could. Steve shivered too.

He felt Steve’s hand combing through his hair as well, stopping to cup his skull occasionally. He wondered what Steve was thinking. For his part, Tony wanted to curl up in satisfaction at the feel of that big hand cupping the back of his neck.

“Why now?” Tony asked, because he was wondering what Steve was thinking, and maybe now, he could find out.

Steve drew back and looked Tony in the eyes, because he was stupid brave like that, even though Tony knew how difficult it was for Steve to talk about his feelings. “This… isn’t new. Not for me.”

Tony nodded. “Not for me either. But I never suspected you would, uh, reciprocate.”

“Before this, I was keeping it all locked down,” Steve said, a wry twist to his smile. “Because what if you didn’t feel the same, then I would mess things up. But what if you did feel the same, and I mess things up anyway? I’ve lost things just from waiting too long, but I wasn’t even waiting this time. I didn’t dare let myself wait. It seemed too risky. I had nothing here, nothing but the team, and I couldn’t lose that too. I was just… afraid.”

Tony brushed a soothing hand down Steve’s shoulder. But he didn’t really know what to say, because…

“What’s changed, then?” Tony asked, a little afraid to voice it, because what if Steve changed his mind? 

Steve pressed forward, kissing him again, intensely, stealing his breath. Then he pulled back and said, “I didn’t do anything, I kept it all locked down, and I almost lost everything anyway. I almost lost it all to some outsider pulling our strings, and all because I was too afraid to say anything. I kept wondering, how would things have turned out if I had just told you the truth about _everything_.”

“Steve, that isn’t on you—”

“I’m not saying that. I’m saying it all blew up anyway. Keeping quiet, the low risk approach? It never works out for me,” Steve said with a surprising vehemence, voice low but strong.

Tony blinked. “So… fuck it all?”

“Yep. Fuck it all,” Steve said.

Tony felt a childish glee at hearing the swear word drop so easily from Steve’s lips, he couldn’t help but swoop in for another kiss, like he could taste the word ‘fuck’ from Steve’s mouth.

He sighed when he pulled back slowly and said, “I did notice… There’s been something more reckless, more devil-may-care about you lately.”

“Is that a good thing?”

“I think it’s good that you aren’t bottling it all up anymore,” Tony said, choosing his words with the kind of care he rarely paid to what tumbled out of his mouth. “But I hope you’re still careful, Steve. About other things. I prefer you in one solid piece.”

“I’m as careful as I ever am,” Steve admitted.

“Which is not very.”

“Said the pot to the kettle.”

Tony hid his face in Steve’s shoulder. “Yeah, okay, that’s kind of true.”

Steve said slowly, “What I’m not so careful with anymore, Tony, is hiding what I feel for you. That’s all that's changed. Everything else is still the same.”

Tony pulled back and gazed at Steve, a fond smile on his face. “Yeah, that does sound pretty dangerous.”

“It’s worth the risk. It doesn’t change the big picture anyway,” Steve said.

Tony raised an eyebrow. “Well that’s disappointing. How do you figure that?”

Steve didn’t rise to the bait, only explained seriously, “We tried to beat each other down, and then we worked it out. _We worked through it_. The worst happened and we’re still here, together. So I know, through good times and bad times, through the best and worst of what we’ve done, we still ended up here. No matter what happens, it doesn’t change what we have between us.”

It sounded remarkably, amazingly like a vow, a promise.

It was too soon to think like that, but when Tony looked into Steve’s unwavering gaze, he knew Steve was thinking the same thing.

“Yeah. Yeah, I think you’re right about that. Together, through the best and worst of it,” Tony said, his voice breaking only the slightest bit.

He didn’t dare say anything more, because this was too new for such heavy confessions, but he knew they were both on the same page, and some time in the future, they would revisit this.

Steve leaned forward and kissed Tony on the cheek, like he couldn’t help himself. It made Tony flush with joy.

After that much seriousness, he couldn’t help but try to lighten the moment, “But you know, there are some aspects of this relationship that can change.”

To emphasize his point, Tony pressed himself bodily against Steve, putting his weight against the push. Steve only held steady and squeezed him closer, grinning. That smile was magnificent from up close, the kind of sunshine glow that Tony thought would brighten the world if it could be bottled and distributed.

“I like to think about it more as an evolution,” Steve said.

Tony leaned in and murmured into Steve’s ear, “Mm, talk science to me, hot stuff.”

Steve laughed and kissed him again. Objective achieved. Tony hummed in happiness and kissed him back with all he had.

* * * * * *

Days later, Tony lay on his couch. He could admit it, he was pining a little. Steve had gone back out into the world, away from America, and back to wherever a little superpowered vigilantism was needed. The others were still out there, and Steve couldn’t leave them on their own for long. He couldn’t desert their team.

Funnily, Tony didn’t feel deserted in turn. It was hard to feel that way when Steve had shown multiple times how he would always come for Tony if Tony needed him. Even when Tony didn’t think he needed him. Tony smiled at the idea.

“F.R.I.D.A.Y., take a message for Sunshine.”

It was a new nickname, one that filled Tony with a glow every time he thought about it.

“Ready, boss.”

Tony was flicking through the pictures from the two flip phones Steve had given him, projected in the air above the couch. “Don’t think I didn’t notice that you stole my thunder. I was going to kiss you first.”

The reply was almost instantaneous, like Steve had been waiting by his phone. The idea did make Tony squirm with selfish happiness, even though he knew it was unlikely.

Steve: _You should have been quicker then._

Tony laughed. “You’re such a little shit.”

There was a brief pause.

Steve: _Do you kiss Captain America with that mouth of yours?_

This was followed by an obviously quick doodle of a Captain America bear looking shocked.

“No, right now I’m kissing a bearded nomadic vigilante. I don’t know if you’ve heard of him. Super hot, wears clothes two sizes too small, travels the world righting wrongs.”

Steve: _Exactly how hot would you say he is?_

“Burns hotter than the surface of the sun. Just thinking about him warms me up on the inside,” Tony said, feeling his cheeks flush on the second sentence, but deciding to commit to it.

Steve: _That_ _’_ _s pretty hot. But I don’_ _t think he’_ _s as hot as my fella. That guy turns heads from across the room._

Tony shuffled down lower on the couch, wanting to squirm, but feeling very flattered anyway.

Steve: _He has these beautiful dark eyes that draw you in. I can never capture them perfectly in my sketches. I_ _’_ _ve never seen lashes so full on anyone before._

Tony hadn’t expected the second message, and he just wanted to bask in Steve’s words. Maybe project it in Times Square with a caption, ‘Look! Steve thinks I have beautiful eyes!’

He considered printing out a hundred copies of the message and sticking it all over his wall, but that was probably too creepy.

Tony said, “You just need practice. I’m happy to model for you as much as you want.”

Steve: _I_ _’_ _m holding you to that the next time I visit._

The promise that Steve would visit was enough to soothe Tony’s pining. He should probably get up and get some work done soon, keep himself occupied instead of indulging in his mooning. There were things to do, problems to solve, industries to revolutionize.

But all this talk about sketches reminded Tony about something. He flicked through the photos until he came across the watercolor painting Steve had photographed and left in the second flip phone.

Tony asked, “Hey, it’s been awhile and I was always too distracted to ask… but why did you leave those photos in those flip phones?”

Steve: _I wanted you to know where I was and have something beautiful to look at._

“Huh. What about the random ones of the room, the bed, the desk?”

Steve: _You_ _’_ _ve been thinking about them?_

“Yep. I look at them sometimes,” Tony said. It was probably less ‘sometimes’ and more ‘a lot of times’.

Steve: _That’_ _s why._

Tony frowned. “What do you mean?”

Steve: _You can_ _’_ _t resist a mystery. I wanted you to think about me._

Tony boggled at the message in front of him. It wasn’t like the photos had preoccupied his mind. He looked at them idly, sometimes without even really thinking about it. But he did look at them and wonder sometimes.

Steve had been playing the long game all along.

“Mission accomplished,” Tony said. “But next time, I think you should send me something racier to think about, okay?”

Steve: _I thought you would never ask._

* * * * * *

Epilogue

They were on the battlefield, all of them, coming together again finally to face down the enormous world-ending threat. Far above in the distant sky, Thanos’ massive ship was approaching.

Most of them had met up again, reconciled, at various occasions since the team split up. But this was the first time they were _all_ here. Thor and Loki were beside the Guardians of the Galaxy. Guardians of the Galaxy… Tony was still trying to wrap his head around a talking raccoon and a sentient tree. And clearly earth didn’t have a monopoly on pretentious superhero names. 

Standing by Tony’s side were Bruce in his new stretchy pants, Rhodey in a new War Machine armor and Peter in his new Spider-Man suit, with more protection that didn't compromise his dexterity. He didn’t want the kid here, didn’t want him risking his life like this, but if this line of defence failed and they didn’t stop Thanos here, then no one on Earth would survive what came next. Peter wanted to be part of the force to save the world because, as he said, he wanted to keep on living in it, and who was Tony to argue with him on that?

Vision and Wanda were already standing side-by-side. Natasha and Clint were joined at the hip, like they had been for the past few months. T’Challa had his warriors lined up behind him, with Steve, Bucky and Sam by his side.

Everyone looked from Steve to Tony, like they weren’t sure where Steve and Tony stood with each other. They had both taken only a select few into their confidence.

Tony bit back a laugh.

“Tony,” Steve said in a measured tone.

Tony nodded and replied in kind, “Steve.”

Steve stepped forward and Tony did the same. Then they walked towards each other, aware of all the eyes on them. Tony handed over the red, white and blue vibranium shield that he had been carrying at his side.

“I think this is yours,” Tony said calmly.

Steve reached out, brushing his gloved hand against Tony’s armored fingers as he took the shield. He lifted it and let the magnets on the straps pull the shield into place on his back with a solid thunk. So Steve had predicted this moment and worn his old shield harness to the field. A man with a plan, as usual.

“Thank you,” Steve said.

There was a momentary silence, and Tony decided that they might as well assuage everyone’s worries.

Tony held out a hand. “It’s been awhile, but I think we’re ready to do this as a team again. What do you think?”

Steve nodded solemnly, but his eyes were bright with shared memories. He reached out and shook Tony’s hand.

They didn’t let go immediately.

In the hushed battleground, Clint’s whisper carried. “That’s it? After all that drama and fighting, that’s how they make up?”

Tony watched as the corners of Steve’s eyes crinkled in amusement, and then darken with mischievous delight.

“We do this together,” Steve said.

Tony nodded. “All in.”

As if on cue, Steve pulled Tony in, _dipped him_ , which was impressive because the Iron Man suit was heavy and not easy to dip, and kissed him extravagantly. Tony could feel the smile against his lips and he was helpless to do anything but smile, and kiss Steve back.

Clint’s second whisper carried too. “What the fuck?”

Steve pulled back, giving Tony enough space to draw in a breath and whisper against Steve’s lips with a grin, “Yeah, let’s go save the world.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don’t read the comics, but there are some comic book references in this story! In the comics, Justin Hammer contacts Hydra, Moroboshi International and Trinational Commission in Iron Man issue #281 to work with them to take down Tony Stark. The story doesn’t follow the comics storyline at all, but I wanted to use villains from the comics.
> 
> Blizzard is someone Justin employed occasionally against Tony in the comics. I considered using the Blizzard from the Agents of Shield TV show, but decided not to since I’m not sure where he is canonically right now. So this Blizzard is the first one from the comics, who still uses a suit rather than innate superpowers. 
> 
> I can’t believe this whole story happens without Tony wearing his Iron Man suit until the very end… Anyway, hope you enjoyed!


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